Derka Drop-In
by timeroulettego
Summary: A normal day at South Park Elementary is cut short when a group of terrorists appear out of nowhere and take all students and staff hostage. Stan and Cartman manage to avoid the crowd, but can they get to the bottom of the mystery before they are found?
1. Mondays Are The Worst

_**A/N:**_ _This is kind of an idea that just came to me, its the first full-on __South Park story I have that isn't a proper cross-over (which is still my main interest, but this one just seems to have taken shape before my other idea 'With Hate, The CIA', which was going to be next to launch), so hopefully it'll get me a few more views than the other story was doing._

_If you're new to my stories, I'll just let you know that I host votes on my profile page, mainly on 'next chapter titles' or minor parts to the story, so visit after reading to make a contribution to the tally. Not much left to say but enjoy, and let me know what you think._

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_**Extra note:** I kinda realised that the first chapter-and-a-half is pretty much pointless in the bigger picture and that might be putting some people off, I just wanted a little filler and it got out of hand, so if you're not interested then **SKIP TO HALFWAY THROUGH CHAP.2** WHEN THE ACTION STARTS. Can't remember exactly where, just look for the point they arrive at school in chapter 2._

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_Monday 13th May 2013, 07:10_

After hitting his snooze button twice, a dreary Stan Marsh heard a knock on his bedroom door and a loud call from his mother: "Stanley, get up now, you need to get ready for school!"

That was it, his weekend was over. "Uuugh, fine," he mumbled, and got out of his warm bed to make his way downstairs, where a plate of waffles with syrup and a glass of milk was waiting for him in the kitchen as he said a collective good morning to the three other people in the room, to which he got back two friendly replies and a 'morning, turd'.

"Goddamnit, Mondays are the worst," the boy moaned as he sat at the table.

"Yeah, I know how you feel, but it's not any easier for the rest of us, son, it has to be done," Randy explained as he looked up from his newspaper.

Stan agreed with the comment, and quietly ate his breakfast while those around him talked and Shelley left the table. As he was finishing up 10 minutes later, Sharon asked her son: "Stanley, today's the deadline for the 'Same Name Cultural Trip' permission slips to be handed in, isn't it?"

"Err... yeah, mine's in my room, can you or dad sign it please?"

"That's pretty much the point sweetie, go get it then, I'm busy with these lunches," the woman stressed.

The blue-hatted boy had luckily put his last forkful in his mouth, and scampered upstairs to get the papers. After handing it over to Randy and watching him read and sign it, Stan thanked his dad and set the documents down on the table.

Sharon finished buttering sandwiches and knelt down to her son's level, stroking his face: "Oooh, I can't believe my baby's going to Alaska for 10 whole days."

Stan tried to brush off her motherly concern: "It's still over a month away mom, I'll be fine like last year. Kyle's mom's gonna be even more worried, he's staying with some family in Germany, at least I'm not on the other side of the world, I'm still in America... sorta. Besides, the 'other' Marshes are cool, Stan runs a wolf sanctuary and lumberjack business, remember, and he told me that if I came back next year, he'd let me drive a snowmobile, play with his snow soccer team, _and_ help chainsaw a tree down with him, it'll be awesome."

"I know, and you'll have a great time, I know it, but I need to worry about you, you know? I just have to remember that this is such a great opportunity that your school is providing, and the fact that they're paying for everyone to go off around the world is just the icing on the cake for us parents, even if we're going to be on-edge 24/7 about it."

Randy commented: "Yeah, Principal Victoria said at the last PTA meeting that it's a way for them to use up their budget like last year, wish they had spare funds like that when I was there. Where are the others in your class going Stan?"

"Err... off the top of my head I know Butters has scored big-time and ended up with some millionaires mansion on Isla Island, Wendy's going to somewhere in Fiji, I just said where Kyle was going, and Cartman's going to a new host in South Africa 'cause he ran away from that place in Alabama last year. I think Kenny's one in Canada cancelled so they're trying to find a replacement host, and I don't think some of the others have been confirmed yet, either that or they didn't tell me."

"Well at least _we're_ more prepared this time around. Ooh, we'll have to buy you a whole new wardrobe before you go," Sharon noted while pulling Stan's Terrance & Phillip pyjama top a little.

Both father and son rolled their eyes at this suggestion. Unlike kids in other towns, Stan didn't _need_ a whole new load of cold-weather clothes to go to Alaska, he had plenty due to where he lived, but like most boys he also didn't want to deal with a day-long shopping trip of 'trying on' different coats and jeans, while Randy knew that the phrase 'whole new wardrobe' doesn't mean cheap. He made a mental note to remind his wife about that later.

Sharon half-noticed the responses but decided to drop the subject and move on: "Come on Stan, you don't have much time, go take a shower and get dressed."

"But... I like having my showers in the evening," the boy protested.

"Well you didn't last night, or the whole weekend for that matter. Now, Stanley," she firmly instructed.

Stan grumbled as he made his way upstairs to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and showering in just over 5 minutes. He hated being rushed like this, but his morning would get a lot worse and needlessly stressful if he didn't hurry up now.

After drying his hair and putting his trademark hat back on, he wrapped the towel around and went back to his room to get dressed. An orange t-shirt and jeans would have been enough for most American kids in the middle of May, but because he lived in South Park he had to get his coat and gloves as well. Luckily he had everything he needed for school already in his blue backpack, so was pretty much ready to leave as he hurried back downstairs close to 7:40.

"Here you go, fresh from the kitchen of mom," Sharon greeted with a black-and-purple 'Rockies' lunchbox as Stan walked back to the kitchen, and quickly answered what she knew the next question from her son would be: "PB&J, an apple, a chocolate-chip cookie, vanilla yoghurt, and a can of Fanta. Sound good?"

"Yeah, thanks mom," the boy noted with a smile as he packed the lunchbox into his bag, pleased at the unusually 'sweet' line-up.

"Are you leaving now or waiting a few minutes?"

"Err... now. Might as well," if there was one thing that he usually enjoyed about schooldays, it was hanging out with his friends at the bus stop.

"Alright, I won't be back from work 'till about half-four, so you kids have the house to yourself for an hour. I don't want to come home to any arguments, okay?"

"Sure mom, I mean, _I'll_ try," Stan explained as he headed for the front door.

He was stopped in his path by his mother calling his name, and turned around to see her by the kitchen table with a know-it-all look on her face while holding the permission slip: "Forgetting something?"

"Ha-ha, yeah, thanks mom," he laughed off as he took the papers.

"Honestly sweetie, you'll be forgetting your passport in a few weeks as well unless it's wrapped around your neck with a bell on the end."

The boy rolled his eyes hoping she was only kidding, and left the house after exchanging kisses and goodbyes and slipping on his gloves.

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_**A/N:**_ _This chapter was going to have a lot more to it, but I'm splitting it in two and saving everything for the next one because it got too long, so sorry if this looks like a slow start, just trying to ease myself into it. No chapter votes this time around, could barely think of one decent name for the next chapter, let alone two :/ . Not a huge animal fan, so I don't know if a 'wolf sanctuary' is a real thing, but, you know, whatever._

_The mention of shopping can be taken as a tribute to all the hours and money lost by guys both old and young being forced to participate in this pastime. Only by raising awareness can we tackle this worldwide epidemic ;) ._

_A quick couple of extra notes on the story, though, there will be spoilers for past episodes (just a warning so I'm covered, it's now all your fault), there are a couple of 'cameos' from other animated shows in the next chapter, so just go with it (I don't think enough is mentioned for it to be considered a cross-over), and any Kenny lines you'll just have to imagine in his voice from the show, I'm not even going to try and write in 'mmph ffffmm mmmmmppph' all the time. So... yeah, again, enjoy and comment..._


	2. Broken Birthdays

_Monday 13th May 2013, 07:45_

After a quiet relaxing walk Stan was at the bus stop before quarter-to-eight, and his face lit up when he saw Cartman and Kenny standing by the road next to the tall sign. "Hey dudes," he greeted to two calm replies.

"You guys, that was crazy last week huh?" Cartman said.

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be playing wizards and warriors again for a while, I'm sure glad that's over with."

Stan's plan to start a conversation about the latest sports news was cut short when he noticed his best friend Kyle running towards the group, looking out-of-breath and dying to share something with them.

"You guys! Guys! I have awesome news!," the green-hatted boy panted.

"You have AIDS?" Cartman asked.

Kyle took a few seconds to catch his breath, and angrily replied: "What? No! I thought you learned your fucking lesson last time! Anyway, you know it's my birthday the Sunday after next, in 13 days..."

"Well we're not exactly keeping a calendar of all things Kahl Broflovski, but please continue Jew, this should be interesting at least."

"Hey, shut up fatass! So my mom and dad said since I'm turning 10, they wanna do something special for my birthday... and they said I could take some friends to Sugar Splash!"

Stan and Cartman threw their arms up in the air and cheered with a 'cool' and 'awesome' respectively, but Kenny looked puzzled. "What the hell is Sugar Splash?," he questioned with a muffle.

Stan was the first to pitch in with an answer: "Dude, don't you remember, I think you were with us when Butters had his late birthday party last year."

"Yeah Kenny, Sugar Splash, its halfway between South Park and Springfield by train, you must have heard of it. It's like a giant indoor waterpark, but most of the pools are made of jell-o, candy or soda instead of water."

"Yeah, it's really cool, man, they even have that 5-metre diving board into a really deep jell-o bowl, you end up right inside it and have to eat your way to the exit," Stan added.

"Oooohhhh, _that_ Sugar Splash. I remember now."

"What the hell did you think we were talking about, you poor piece of crap? There's also the, uh... lemonade slahd, the Coca-Cola rain room, the gummy worm lazy river with chocolate boats. Aww, Sugar Splash, it's like a dream you guys, like Disneyland and Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory combiiiined. You know, I think I like you again Jew-boy, I knew you'd come in useful again someday."

Stan butted in before Kyle could: "Wait, I think I see where this is going. How many people are you taking Kyle, let's just get this part over with."

"My parents haven't decided yet, but I know for sure I'm inviting you two, Stan and Kenny."

"Ay!"

"...But I don't know about anyone else yet. I could only be taking 2 friends, it could be 5 or 6, I honestly don't know yet. And... as much as I hate to admit it... you'll probably be on the list Cartman."

"_Sweeet_."

"...As long as you don't piss me off too much or go overboard and annoying over the next two weeks talking about it. You know, Casa Bonita was really cool after you got arrested, but it was still just a Mexican restaurant, it wasn't as 'totally awesome' as you said it'd be, and Sugar Splash is probably the same. I'm really excited about this, but I don't care how good it'll be, it's not gonna be better than Disney _and_ Willy Wonka combined. It's not perfect dude, or have you forgotten that rule they have?"

"Dude, _what rule_... let me think nyah... wait, ooohh, that thing with the speedos? Oh yeah, you're right Kahl, that rule does piss me off."

"What the fuck?" Kenny asked.

Stan looked relieved to get away from Kyle and Cartman's arguing: "Dude, you still don't remember? Cause, there's like, loads of food there, they have to make sure there's no germs around, so they don't let anyone use their own swimsuits or anything, you have to go through a shower before and after every ride, and they make you wear a pair of disposable speedos. They say it's, like, cheaper to have boxes with hundreds of them, so you just throw one away and get a new one when they say it's too dirty. It kinda sucks and it's embarrassing at first, but everyone else has to do it, and it's totally worth it to go on all the candy rides."

"Yeah!"

"True 'dat," Cartman added.

Kyle thought for a second: "Yeah, in fact, I might not uninvite Cartman for being an asshole, I'm just worried I'll be put off candy for life at the sight of him like that."

The three thin boys burst into laughter, before Cartman interrupted: "Ay! You better shut your god-dam Jew mouth, 'else I'll kick you in the neeuuts."

Kyle was less and less intimidated by Cartman's threat every time he used it, since the last time he actually followed through was weeks ago: "Whatever, it's better than finding some guy's fallen-off shorts in the ice cream you're eating, so it won't be that bad I guess, I had to wear them at the pool I went to in Germany last year, my host family said its the rules for a lot of places in Europe, especially France. Hey, you guys all have your forms today for the trip? I hope they find you somewhere else soon Kenny, but where's everyone else going? I'm back at that German village Himmelmert, it was nice and peaceful there even if I couldn't understand much of what they were saying."

"Well, let's see nyah, since I said I'd rather be in faggy France than stupid Hackleberg, Alabama, they paired me up with _another_ Eric Cartman who lives in... let's see... Cape Town, Western Cape Province, South Africa."

Stan noted: "Well that's kinda cool I guess. Isn't that the one with that really flat mountain-"

"-Table Mountain," Kyle corrected

"Yeah, Table Mountain over the city?"

"I don't know you guys, I've never heard of a giant mountain shaped like a table, that's retarded, I've heard South Africa's not that great anyway. I was looking it up this weekend with this educational website called The KKK, it said that it was a really awesome place that didn't take shit from anyone until some pussy-ass president called Mandela went and ruined it in the 90's."

"Dude..." was all Stan could say, with Kyle and Kenny too surprised to even speak, but the blue-hatted boy knew an argument would be pointless right now so tried to change the subject as their bus arrived: "So I'm going, to, err... Meadow Lakes, Alaska again, Stan said I could help look after the wolves and ride a snowmobile, pretty cool right?"

"Yeah, that's awesome," Kyle replied as they sat down.

"Yeah, at least it's scheduled well again so I'm not away for my birthday."

"Hmm, it's two weeks after mine isn't it, any idea what you're doing dude?"

"I don't know yet, my mom and dad said I could have a sleepover with a few friends, and they _might_ take us to go go-karting in Denver. It'll be fun whatever happens, but you've got the best treat by far dude."

"Thanks, but I think anything with my friends around is better than what I had last year," he explained as he got out his BlackBerry and found a picture: "My mom just had a family get-together for me, it was okay, except she made me hang out with my cousin Kyle the whole time, and he's no fun at all cause he's a total wimp, and even then... _'video games play up something naesty on muy epilepsy'_," he finished while putting on an accent out of Cartman's earshot.

In the middle of shuddering at the memory of that annoying kid, Stan noticed something on Kyle's family picture: "Dude, the banner and the cake... why the hell does it say 10? You're 9 right now, turning 10 this month. What gives?"

Kyle studied the image curiously: "Hmm... that must be some kind of mistake,right? I mean, we were all talking about it being my 10th birthday this year, were we doing that the year before? Can't be. I know dude, what about the picture you have of your party a couple years ago at Whistlin' Willys, you know, the one where you got all depressed and shit after?"

Kyle knew for a fact that his best friend didn't like bringing up that chapter of his life too often (and had put it all behind him, aside from the occasional drink when the entertainment on offer reaches below 'Honey Boo Boo' levels of shittiness), but Stan understood why it was mentioned, and scrolled through his iPhone to find the picture his mother had taken of him and his friends.

"I hate my hair so fucking much..." Kyle noted, before drawing attention to the most important part of the picture. "There it is dude, right in the middle of your cake, a giant '10'."

"That is wierd, I think I have something from my last birthday... lemme just check... what the hell?! It says '10' on this cake too. How is that even possible, do our bodies just go, like, backwards each year or something and then we turn 10 again?"

The boys looked at eachother puzzled, and climbed up to face the pair sitting behind them, as Kyle asked "Cartman, Kenny, we're just checking something... how old are you?"

"Jesus tapdancing Christ Kahl, I knew you guys were stupid but Jesus Christ you guys."

Stan stuck up for his best friend, pressuring the other boys: "Please dude, it's really important, how old are you?"

"I'm 9 years old buttfucker, same as I was yesterday, Christ! I have to wait till July, don't fucking rub it in you... you fucking Juney pussy!"

"I'm 10," Kenny simply chipped in, not as much of a surprise to Stan and Kyle since his birthday was months ago.

"And you're absolutely sure dude?" Kyle asked

The oldest of the four mumbled something about not getting what he wanted on his special day, leading to the other three boys looking puzzled (with Stan asking what a 'lapdancer' was) and triggering a fit of laughter from the hooded kid.

"Just... look at these pictures guys," Kyle interrupted, and showed the images from the two phones: "My 10th birthday is meant to be in two weeks, not last year, and Stan's got two pictures of him turning 10 on different years, it doesn't add up. How long have we been in Mr. Garrison's class?"

"Since 3rd grade if you wanna get technical, but that was... years ago. Wait a minute, dude, do you think we're all in some sort of time loop or something?" Stan appeared to be the most knowledgeable of the four on this sci-fi subject, but both Cartman and Kenny had never been told why.

"Look you guys, maybe this is something that you shouldn't worry your fragile little Jew and hippie brains about, it sounds too complicated so maybe just... go with it, you know."

It was the first sensible idea that Cartman had said in ages, and made Stan stop and think, but out of habit Kyle quickly retorted: "But don't you think this is a really wierd thing to happen to us, Cartman, I mean, what about all those teen celebrities from a few years ago, huh, like Justin Bieber, he was a whiny little girly bitch a few years ago, now he's just a regular little bitch. How can they have aged and not us?"

"Wait, Justin Bieber is still alive? I thought Cthulu and I... _fucking mint and berries_. Look Kahl, maybe we are in some kind of wierd 'time loop', maybe its all in your head, but just drop it, okay. I say this because you're my friend and I care about you... and I'd really appreciate a trip to Candy Splash."

Kyle opened his mouth, but was dumbfounded and couldn't think of anything to say, and didn't have time to as the bus stopped outside the school. After talking it through with Stan on the way into the building, Kyle agreed that they would forget about it for the time being, but not before he has 'one question' for Mr. Garrison, who was in his teacher's desk ready to start the day.

The boys approached the area near the blackboard, and after a nudge from Stan, Kyle asked: "Err... Mr. Garrison, how long have you been our teacher for?"

"Well I was your 3rd grade teacher and now I'm your 4th, I thought you boys were meant to be some of my brighter students, especially you Kyle."

"I know all that, but-"

"Then don't try and be a little smartass Kyle. Okay children let's take our seats," the teacher spoke louder as he finished.

After Kyle grumbled after turning away with Stan, the class took around a minute to get organised and in place, as Mr. Garrison continued: "Alright fist things first, does everyone have their permission slip for the 'Same Name Cultural Trip'?"

"Aaaa, shit."

"What's wrong Tweek, did you forget yours?" Mr. Garrison asked as the majority of the class took the letters from their backpacks and handed them over.

"Err... yes sir, god! Does that mean I don't get to go to, gah, Hong Kong? Too many people... _way_ too much pressure!"

"Probably not Tweek, it was meant to be in today and you blew it. Okay children our first lesson today is history, America joined World War II in 1941 but were originally neutral for the first two years, can anybody tell me-yes Token?"

"Uhh, I'm still not sure what this whole trip is meant to be about, I didn't go last year."

"Yeah, me neither," his girlfriend Nichole noted, as Cartman held back on making one of his usual comments.

"Ugh, fine, I'll run it by you again class. Last year the school needed to use up all of their budget before the summer vacation to avoid having our funding cut, and _I_ came up with the brilliant idea to use school money to deport all you little bastards for a couple weeks and give us teachers a well-earned rest. The others took it seriously, built on it, and made up the 'Same Name' trip, where we find volunteers from around the world who have the same name as you, so you can go over and learn about different cultures and people, kind of like an exchange programme, that kind of shit. Token didn't go because he's a 'richer' that had a family income above the threshold we set, but we've pushed it up this year so that we can get rid of as many of you as poss-sorry... enhance your collective multi-cultural experience, so you're getting detention if you don't get your letter cleared soon Tweek, okay? Oh, and Kenny?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been told to let you know that we found a last-minute volunteer to take you in. His name's not Kenny McKormick, but he was on the list of initial volunteers so was available on short-notice. He's an airline pilot from Quahog, Rhode Island called Glenn Quagmire, you'll be staying at his house for the 10 days next month."

"Okay," Kenny replied, with the teacher continuing his lesson before Stan could comment about the town chosen for his friend.

"Right, World War II. So in 1939, this Nazi guy called Adolf Hitler was pissed off at some Jews and invaded Poland, but America-oh WHAT NOW?!" he cried as the classroom's speaker went off.

Principal Victoria's voice echoed through the room: "Good morning students, these are the morning announcements."

"Oh," Mr. Garrison noted, and slumped into his seat to wait out the easy 5 minutes.

"So as you know students, your permission slips for the 'Same Name Cultural Trip' need to he given to your teachers by today, so hand them in if you haven't already done so. The slide in the playground has been taken away all this week for maintainance, and lunch today will be-oooh golly, what was that?"

The school could just about hear the sound of the door opening through the speakers, before a very loud cry from the person who just entered. "Aaaallllllllllaaahhhhhhhh!"

"Oh my goodness! Who are you? What are you d-" the woman was cut off with the sound of a gun cocking and what just seemed to be random yelling that none of the worried listeners could understand, and after half a minute she resumed her post at the microphone: "Yes, yes, I'll tell them, just don't hurt anyone, please! Students, I don't wish to alarm anyone, but the person who just came into my office is a man who calls himself 'Grand Master Derka Ahmed'. This note written in English says that he is the leader of a terrorist group who wish to... seize control of this imperialist building on their march to prosperous victory for the noble cause of Muhammad.'"

There was nervous murmurs in the fourth grade classroom for a few seconds before the voice continued: "They say that they are not going to hurt anyone as long as we follow their instructions, so listen carefully. Ahkmed here says that he now has men posted on each door ready to escort all students and faculty to the auditorium upstairs where we will be held, with the exception of the children under the age of 7... oh, that's the kindergarten and 1st grade Mr. Grand Master, are to be held in the gymnasium. No-one is allowed to escape as the terrorists are currently guarding all main exits, but I have activated the 'ilent-say laram-ay'. For your own safety, students, please comply with the orders you are given and do not speak out of turn. This is now a hostage situation, I repeat, this is a hostage situation."

Seconds later, a man dressed in layers of rags wielding an assault rifle barged into the room, frightening the young occupants by shouting: "Bakala derka derka jihad al-ahmed makafala!"

"Okay kids, this towel-head here must be our stupid escort taking us hostage, we all need to follow him to the auditorium."

The children all carefully complied, leaving their seats and exiting the room behind the man in double-file. In the corridors, they noticed other classes being led in the same manner, although it appeared as though some of the terrorists did not know their way to the stairs too well in the short time they had been in the school, including the fourth grade escort, who had been leading his group in circles for over five minutes.

The terrorist turned to the only other adult in the line, pointing upwards and talking aggressively in his language.

"Look Mr. Jihad, I think you need to get that sand out of your vagina and get wasted once in a while if you ask me, but if you're looking for the stairs they're _that way_, retard," Mr. Garrison noted firmly knowing what he could get away with due to the lack of a translator.

"Oh-ho-ho, ekamala, al-derka," the foreigner at least understood the pointing as he led the group on.

One of the students was getting increasingly anxious at the back of the line though, and looking around desperately in a last-ditch attempt to escape being held captive, Cartman made sure no-one was looking over their shoulders and leaped for the bathroom door that they had just passed.

Unfortunately for his sake, he was not alone, as on his jump he tripped over the unaware boy next to him (and closest to the door), with the momentum pushing them both into the empty boy's bathroom, then collapsing into a heap on the floor.

The fat kid, who had the softer of the landings onto the tiles and was still unaware of who he had just accidentally taken 'with him', moaned as he got up from the person he had just crushed: "The fuck do you think you're doing dumbass?! You just ruined it, I'm trying to fucking escape over ny-Stan?"

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_**A/N:** Took a while to get going, to the main part, so I'll just leave it on a cliffhanger there because I'm nice like that. Sorry if the bus stop scene dragged on a bit, I was trying to fill a bit of time with the boys mentioning a few things in conversation (in particular Sugar Splash, the school trip, and the 'birthday' situation) but ended up digging myself a deeper hole to get out of it all, I don't think too much of it will be relevent to the rest of the story, just there as a chance for a few jokes. Hopefully the one right at the start of the chapter will still be relevent in May with all that THQ business going on right now :[ ._

_The town names that Stan, Kyle, and Cartman mentioned (except for Cape Town) were all random zoom-ins on Google Earth once I knew roughly where I wanted them to be (Alaska, Germany, and any place with a name that sounds unattractive coming from Cartman's mouth). I'd never heard of any of them before, but I'm sure Himmelmert, Hackleberg, and Meadow Lakes are nice enough places to visit if you ever did._

_No chapter voting again, I had to include the next name in somewhere just for its status as a catchphrase. For anyone wondering about why I always put the date and time at the start of a chapter, it's mainly because of my first story that I was writing ('Paging Dr. Spooner'), that involves timetravel, and it seems to have just stuck from there, plus it gives some potential for a few jokes and continuity, etc.. Enjoy & comment._


	3. Derka Derka Muhammad Jihad

_Monday 13th May 2013, 08:50_

The boy in the brown coat slowly opened his eyes in a daze, noticing a grey tiled ceiling, then moving his head around to the left spotted a series of sinks, urinals, and green toilet stalls, and quickly realised where he was, but could have done without the sight of Cartman's double-chinned face popping up out of nowhere: "Stan, dude, you alright, you've been out for like a minute now."

"Err... yeah, just got a bump on the back of the head, I'll be fine, err... thanks for asking though Cartman," Stan noted as he got up, but suddenly remembered _why_ he was standing in the middle of the boy's bathroom, fuming: "Hang on a sec... I'm was only on the ground because for whatever reason _you_ thought it would be funny to push me in here, retard! Don't you realise what's going on out there? This isn't messing around while we deliver attendance or something, those guys could get us _fucking killed_ in a second you sick bastard!"

Cartman sensibly tried to hush his friend, explaining: "Keep quiet, dude, otherwise we're both screwed. Look Stan, I didn't want to drag you into this, I wanted to escape those guys on my own without any pussies dragging me down, but you got in the way of my awesome athleticism and ah tripped, I'm seriously! He-he, it's kinda funny though dude, if you landed just a couple feet that way your precious hat would have been soaked by that puddle of piss on the ground."

"Not funny Cartman, I could easily chuck yours in there if you want, but we've got more important things to worry about than me kicking your ass right now, it looks like we're stuck in this together. What the hell do we do though? Does anyone know we're missing, what if those terrorists come looking for us? They _would_ actually kill us dude, we haven't followed their orders 'cause of you!"

"Dude, just calm down for a second, let's think this through," Stan looked visibly surprised that he was on the other end of those words for once: "If they noticed we were gone straightaway, then they would have found us by now, its been a couple of minutes and your shouting would have attracted their attention if any were close enough. I know for a fact that no-one saw us leave the group dude, I timed my jump to check. Jus-just listen for a sec."

Cartman had motioned towards the door and both boys pressed their ears close to the wall in silence, not hearing a thing on the other side.

"Dude, they must be all upstairs captive in the auditorium," Stan noted: "The hallways are totally empty from the sound of it."

The thinner boy walked away from the wall, continuing: "What the hell do we do now, then? Someone's bound to come in here soon even if they're not looking for us."

"Yes, we'll have to make a break for it somehow. If we can sneak out of the school then we should be safe."

"Yeah... wait, what about everyone else? I know we can't just waltz in there to rescue them with a bunch of terrorists and guns waiting to kill us, but we can't just leave everyone there without trying to help."

"Look, once we escape we can try and do something, but you've gotta look out for numero uno sometimes, rayht? We're no use to anyone just standing in this bathroom Stan, we have to save our own asses before anyone else's. Maybe we can call the police or the FBI or something, but I think they'd already be here, Principal Victoria said she pulled the silent alarm."

"Good point. You seem to know a lot about this kind of stuff."

"Damn right I do, I was right in the middle of something like this before, remember?"

"Yeah, looks like we're going through one of those again, I wonder where these terrorists come from and why they're so pissed at our school?"

"I don't think it matters dude. Everyone in those towel-head countries hates our sweet freedom Stan, they want nothing more than to torture and kill the children of America and play with everyone's emotions, it gives them some kind of sick pleasure."

"Dude, that's not true, and you're one to talk. It's like most places in the world, not everyone is a super-douche terrorist that wants to cause misery. You were wrong about that Baahir kid."

"Well me hunting down that kid saved everyone's lives, but fine, _most_ of them do, freakin hippie."

"_Some_, Cartman. But right now we're right in the firing line of these freaks, so how do we get out without being noticed? They said all the main exits are guarded," Stan added while remembering their current priority.

"I guess our only option is a window or something, maybe we can use that one," Cartman suggested while pointing at a long thin window at the top of the wall.

"Dude-" Stan started, but Cartman had already walked off to the corner of the room and into one of the stalls to try and find a way to reach.

The boy in the darker blue hat stayed outside the cubicles and looked up at the small opening while taking a quick 'bathroom break'. There was no way that _he_ would be able to fit through there, let alone Cartman's fat ass, but was interrupted in his thoughts by the other boy calling him over: "Oh mah god. Stan come quick, have a look at this, It's totally awesome!"

"Wait, just gimme a second... *sigh*, Cartman, if you found 'something awesome' in a bathroom stall then-woah," Stan was both surprised and impressed at the discovery of a medium-sized burlap sack, which he could instantly tell by the language seemed to be filled with papers on the terrorists and numerous small weapons belonging to the group.

The boys dragged the bag into the open to have a better look, with Cartman instantly pocketing a pistol that looked like the only gun inside. Stan fished out a switchblade, and noticed its inscription: "Dude, this can't be right."

"What, this is a pretty awesome thing to find, or is the pussy afraid of a few wittle knives?"

"Shut up fatass, just look at it," Stan requested while pointing at the English 'Made In' identification that was surprisingly on the object underneath a native one.

"So it was made in Derkaderkastan and that must be where they're from, big whoop, but at least that's what you wanted to know right?"

"Yeah, except Derkaderkastan isn't a real country."

"Stan, you've gotta listen to yourself sometimes, you sound totally ridiculous right nyaw, of course it exists, it was even in that movie _Team America_."

"I know dickwad, that's how I know it's _not _real."

"And your point is..."

"Well it doesn't make sense dumbass!"

Stan thumbed through an English-language newspaper in the sack which had a front-page headline about terrorism, and found an annotated 'world map' a few pages in. "Look at this copy of _The Day_ dude, all of the Middle East, North Africa, and India are coloured in as 'Derkaderkastan', doesn't that seem wierd to you?"

"And? That's probably where it is, I can't keep up to date with where all the places are."

"Then try reading a real map once in a while dumbass!" Stan fumed quietly: "You must recognise this part in green here, it includes where America and Canada is, but the map says it's called 'Molossialand'. In fact, I don't think anything on this has the right name, and I know for a fact there's more than... 16 countries in the world."

"Woa-ho-ho, Mr. I'm-so-great-at-geography, I can watch you making out with that faggy map later, but right now we need to find a way out of this fucking school before they find us."

"Alright, we'll listen at the door again to check no-one's out there, then we'll go to a room somewhere and go out its window, I think the second grade class is just down the hall to the right," Stan suggested as he packed the sack up and pulled its drawstrings, following Cartman to the door "By the way, I don't think I'm an expert at geography dude, I know people who are but this is all just common sense. I mean, 'Derkaderkastan'? That was a movie joke, come on dude."

The fatter boy surprisingly didn't respond, as the pair waited for 20 seconds of complete silence before opening the door and moving as quickly and quietly as they could (with a sack-carrying Stan reduced to equalling Cartman's pace) towards the second grade classroom, shutting the door and lowering the blind behind them.

After a minute in the empty room that had clearly been left behind in a hurry, the boys opened the window and threw the sack out before exiting themselves (with Cartman going first aided by Stan pushing), noticing that they were at the 'camera right' side of the school as planned. After scaling a short brick wall straight ahead (Cartman again grunting and moaning as he was helped over), they crouched and made their way around the outer perimeter to end up at the front of the building, where Stan in particular was comforted at the sight of police cars and a barricade.

Approaching Officer Barbrady, Stan nervously asked: "So... what's going on in there now?"

"Are you boys part of the terrorist organisation?"

"What?! No! We're just kids dude!"

"Okay, you can't be too sure when it comes to terrorists, you know. But basically I got a silent alarm call from the school at around 8:39 this morning. I got straight over here but noticed there were a number of terrorists at the first-floor windows and walking inside. They pointed their guns and told me not to come any closer, and threw a note from the window saying that they have taken the entire school hostage. I called for back-up and Officer Yates' downtown unit have created a larger police block and are working to collect more information, we have also called higher authorities so the CIA and effbeeioy should be here soon."

"Any idea who the terrorists are Barbrady?" Cartman added.

"No, the downtown unit only have the note that was written and are currently trying to collect more intel, and the perimeter unit, that's me, is in charge of public liason, so please don't disturb Yates, he's trying to do his job here, if you have any information or questions please direct them to me, I've just called in news reporters to let the public know what is going on as soon as they get here."

Stan looked at the burlap sack in his hand and was about to hand it over, before Cartman dragged him backwards and spun him around, angrily whispering: "Dude, what do you think you're doing?"

"Well he just asked for information, and we have some evidence ri-"

The larger of the two snatched the bag away: "No way Stan, why the hell should we give any help to these police guys? They're too low-level and they'll just fuck up our evidence! If I'm handing it over to anyone, it'll be the CIA or FBI."

"Our friends and teachers are in there dipshit, every second counts! I know you hate Kyle but do you really want to see him die like this, or anyone else for that matter?"

"Muslim terrorists hate Jews more than anyone else Stan. Kyle's only hope now is to not let on that he's their biggest enemy right now."

"No he's not fatass!" Stan exclaimed while knowing that his best friend was more than capable and wise enough to not reveal his religion, but still remained worried for him and everyone in general. "We have to hand that stuff over and let them do whatever they can, it'll just get passed onto the CIA or someone when they get here anyway. People's lives are at stake Cartman."

"Alright, fine! We can... give them half if it'll shut you up, pussy. But we already know more than they do, we can use our share of the evidence to find out about this ourselves, they won't let us help out here, and I bet that those dicks over there won't be able to come up with jack shit, they never do. What are they going to do the evidence if you're right and Derkaderkastan isn't real, huh?"

Stan bit his lip. Cartman was right, South Park's police forces had a track record of incompetence, and he wanted to be able to help in some way without being surrounded by idiots shutting him down. After thinking and looking back-and-forth for almost half a minute, Stan grabbed an armful of items from the now-open bag and walked them over to Barbrady.

"Err... Officer Barbrady? As we were escaping from the school we found some evidence that could be useful. We can't understand much of it, but I think it has something to do with a place called Derkaderkastan, which isn't real by the way."

"Oh, okay citizen, I'll go hand it over to the superiors now, thank you," the policeman explained as he walked off.

The boy returned to his friend, remarking: "Well at least that sack's gonna be easier to carry now."

"So you'll have no problem being the one to hold it, thanks Stan," Cartman semi-joked.

"Where do we go now then dude? We can't stay here, the terrorists might spot us and know we escaped or something and give everyone else a hard time for it."

"Good thinking hippie, we should take these files and research them some place quiet and out-of-the-way," Cartman noted in his serious 'wizard'-style voice.

"Well, where? The library?"

"No, even more of a place no-one would think to look. I'm not sure if you noticed, but someone in our class wasn't in this morning. I think he might be sick, so maybe it's time we paid him a little visit."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ _Another chapter online! Really can't think of much else to say about it but if you do then don't hesitate to comment just down there, otherwise it gets kinda lonely here ¦(_

_Still no chapter title voting but I promise there will be one for chapter 5 (whenever I get to it) if you're into that sort of thing ;)_


	4. Derka Derka, Stan

_Monday 13th May 2013, 09:30_

It had taken a good 10 minutes of walking for Stan and Cartman to get close to their destination, arriving at the main streets heading away from downtown that were about 5 minutes more from where they were trying to go.

"Dude, Stan, I've just realised something, you're one of them."

"What the hell are you talking about now Cartman?"

"No, no, seriously, you have to be, because... derka derka, Stan. Hahahahahahaha!"

The boy in the blue hat brushed off the annoying laughter: "I know Cartman, it's just a coincidence, there are loads of actual countries with 'stan' at the end."

"Yeah, I'm amazed I've never thought of that before. I mean, Paki-_STAN_, with Bin Laden and terrorists, and Kazi-_STAN_ with that _Borat_ movie, oh my god, the material here is gold!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "It's 'Kazakhstan', dumb fuck, and just drop it, okay? The only people you should be racist to right now are those fucking terrorists that are in our school."

"Ay! I can't help myself Stan, I am wh-oh shit! Hide!" The fatter boy cried as he dragged Stan to a gap inbetween buildings.

"What is it, more terrorists?" Stan asked nervously.

"No, worse, look." Cartman gestured for the pair to peer round the corner, as they saw the large figure of Sheila Broflovski far in the distance but walking in their direction at pace.

Stan moved back out of sight, hissing: "Dude, that's Kyle's mom!"

"Yeah, I know, she's a big fat bitch isn't she."

"Why do we need to hide from her? Not sure if you realise but she's not a terrorist."

"No, but she is a super-sensitive parent who hates any kid having fun. Say what you like Stan, but if she spotted us away from school right now, and we are technically skipping school, she would get all strict and turn us in. She may even stop your little butt buddy Kahl from hanging out with you 'cause _'that no-good Stan Marsh is a bad influence, bubbe'_," he finished in his best mocking and exaggerated 'Jersey Jinger Jew' accent.

"Dude, that's not true at all, Kyle's mom can be strict sometimes, but she'd understand if we just-"

Cartman noticed Stan trying to walk back into the street, and stuck out an arm to force his friend back into a crouching position: "You are _not_ going out there, you hear me?"

"Why? If anything she'd just take us back to her place and look after us, we'd have somewhere safe to research this stuff. Kyle's room's a much better option than sneaking into-."

"But she's a goddamn stinking bitch goddamnit!"

Stan nosebridgepinched in frustration, there was no way he was going to be able to keep Cartman sensible and focused if it was Shiela Broflovski that was caring for them, so sighed with resignation as he sat down in the snowy concrete waiting for her to pass.

She never did, though, and peering round the corner again, Stan realised that she had just entered the building they were at the side of, which stepping out of hiding he recognised as Tom's Rhinoplasty. It quickly clicked together for him with a pretty good idea of why Mrs. Broflovski was there, and motioned Cartman to keep as low and quiet as possible while they went back and peeked above the windowsill, where due to a slightly opened window they could hear what was going on as Shiela approached the reception desk manned by Sharon Marsh, who was minutes into her working day.

"Oh, hello Shiela, this is an unexpected surprise. I would have noticed your name on the appointment list weeks ago if you were on it so I'm guessing this is about-"

"-THE BOYS, Sharon!" the larger woman interrupted. "Sorry I need to cut to the chase here, but the school is being held HOSTAGE BY TERRORISTS!"

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, it's true, I was listening to the radio, they just got in a news report, it said a group broke into the school and are holding all the kids captive in the auditorium. The reporter said the police came across discarded evidence that proves the group are linked to al-Qaeda!"

"Oh my god, what about the boys, Shiela? Stan, Kyle, Ike, are they all okay?!"

"No-one knows Sharon, all that was reported was that there have been no gunshots heard and no indication of any fatalities. The group are said to be holding everyone in the building hostage until their demands are met."

"This... is terrible, I mean *sniff*, who would do such a thing, in this town? Who's trying to deal with the terrorists right now?"

"Apparently it's the police but the CIA and FBI are on their way as we speak. I hope they do something soon, those poor innocent children have been detained for about an hour now."

"Oh my god *sniff*, Stanley!" The woman cried, wrenching the heart and stomach of the boy listening in outside the building.

"Odds are the boys are okay, Sharon, but-"

"-Yeah, I-I know, tha-thanks for telling me Sheila."

"I had to, our families are so close so you were naturally the first person I came to. I was heading down to the school now anyway so that I know what's going on as it happens, I understand if you have to stay here, so if you want I can keep you updated with my ce-"

"-No, I'll go with you. I won't be able to work like this, I... have to be there, same reason as you."

"Do you need to tell your boss first-"

"Err... I should shouldn't I *sniff*. I won't be a minute."

To Sharon's surprise Sheila followed her into the office of her boss Dr. Tom, as the boys outside used Stan's knowledge of the place to move along to the next window where the surprise meeting was being held.

"Err... can I help you Sharon, and err...?"

"Sorry Dr. Tom, I need to leave, right now," Sharon butted in emotionally.

"Why? What's the problem?"

The thinner woman was on the verge of tears, so Sheila stepped forward and explained: "The elementary school has been taken hostage by terrorists, it's all over the radio! Our sons are in there!"

The concerned man walked over to an analogue radio across the room and switched it on, instantly hearing: _"...possibly the biggest story to come out of South Park since last week, or months if you ignore the last seven weeks before that. Again, the unknown terrorist group, a subsidiary of al-Qaeda, have held over 200 students and faculty members hostage in South Park Elementary School, but have not yet made clear their demands. With many children's lives on the line here... well let's just say if drama were made of liquid chocolate... we'd all be Augustus Gloop right now."_

The words were the finishing blow to making Sharon's emotions flow, as she cried on Sheila's shoulder. Hearing this, Stan began to well up with tears as well, but just about pulled himself together with the knowledge that the boy next to him would never let him hear the end of it, simply wiping his eyes clean with his gloved hands. This was one 'fly on the wall' moment that he didn't want to be part of.

"Errm... of course, Sharon, take as much time as you need," Dr. Tom sympathised: "It's a slow day here today anyway, and I doubt many customers will be coming in right now with this news. I can fill in for you, I just hope your boys are okay."

"Thank you so much," Sheila answered for her still-sobbing friend as they exited the office.

Aside from a few ill-timed attempted wisecracks from Cartman (each met with dagger eyes from Stan), the boys sat in pretty much silence for the next few minutes as they waited to hear the womens' voices again, which they did as the doors to the building opened. Every fibre in Stan's body wanted to rush out to meet his mother and hug her tightly as reassurance, but was kept back by a strong grip on his arm by Cartman, who was reading the situation and giving his black-haired friend a stern look and a shake of the head every time their eyes met.

They were unnoticed as the parents walked past their alley, with the boys making out Sharon's now-recovered voice: "...to call Randy and Gerald. Carol, Linda, and Liane as well, no doubt they'll be worried sick but we owe them as much as to let them know as soon as possible..."

As the voices faded in the distance, Stan knew he was now stuck with Cartman for the day, better or worse. The fat boy offered his unique attempts at sympathy: "Come on, it's better that she doesn't know right now, if she does then she'll just lock you in your room or something and you won't be able to help. We still have a job to do, now move. I know what I'm doing here Stan, so just listen to me or I swear to God I will rip your goddamn balls off with my _bare hands_."

"But-"

"_With... my... bare... hands_."

Stan reluctantly went along, and the further he was away from his mother the less depressed he seemed to be, realising that while Sharon's emotions and motherly instinct would be at a peak today, the truth of the matter was that her son was _actually_ safe for the time being away from that school. He couldn't believe Cartman had talked him out of showing himself, but decided to trust the larger boy as they approached house number 1020, with the leader of the pair not even bothering to knock on the door before walking straight inside: "Butters' parents are both at work and they've got no reason to be back here, we should be fahne," he explained.

The boys headed up to Butters' bedroom, where they opened the door to find the blond kid fast asleep in his spotted onesie pyjamas. "Pfft, baby," Cartman noted.

"Button-up pyjamas are pretty gay too fatass," Stan quietly joked.

"Ay! Just... get over to that computer and start typing Stan."

Stan afforded himself a grin as he went over to the iMac on Butters' desk, using Google to look up 'derkaderkastan', and as expected was met with many results for the movie _Team America: World Police_. "See Cartman, I told you, Derkaderkastan doesn't exist."

"Then where the hell are they coming from?"

"Beats me."

"Uhhh... search for news in South Park, past 24 hours, see if any terrorists were spotted before they reached the school."

"Good thinking," Stan acknowledged, but the only 'South Park'-related news had sprung up only half an hour ago, and the stories contained nothing that they didn't already know. Searches for 'terrorism' and 'al qaeda' didn't offer much either.

By this point their unknowing host had started to wake up: "Uuuuhhhh... Mom? Dad? *sniff* What's all that noise for?"

"Butters," the boy was startled awake by the familiar sight of Eric Cartman leaning against a wall next to his bed.

"Aaaaaagggghhhhh! S-stay away from me Eric, I-I'm sick."

"I know you are Butters, that's why we need your help. You see, earlier this morning terrorists attacked our schooool, and are keeping everyone hostage there. Stan and I managed to escape, and we also found a sack of evidence which we're trying to use to find out more about them so we can take those sand monkey bastards down. We just need a safe place to hide and research."

"Well gee Eric *sniff*, I'd sure like to help, an' I guess my room is pretty safe and all, but I don't appreciate you fellas comin' in here without asking. My dad said earlier that I was gonna be *sniff* like that kid in the movies, all alone in the house having to protect it from *sniff* burglars, a-and I guess I failed, huh?"

Stan peered over his shoulder from the computer seat: "It's okay Butters, we won't tell on you or anything, and we'll be out of here soon, we just needed to search for the latest news and stuff on South Park, terrorism, Derkaderkastan, al-Qaeda, we need to get as much information as we can."

"Oh hamburgers! Now I know for sure I'm in deep deep trouble! My dad's already grounded me for not having a-a strong enough body to fight off the flu and missing school, and for not handing my trip form in on time, now I'm gonna get grounded for *sniff* lettin' friends into the house an' having a-al-Qaeda on my search history."

Stan sighed, there was no way of getting through to this poor kid sometimes. "Alright, I turned off the computer while you were talking, we got nothing, just turn it back on and delete the browser history for today when we're gone and you'll be fine, like we weren't even here. We still need to look through some of this stuff, though, have you ever heard of 'Derkaderkastan' Butters? Dipshit Cartman over here reckons its a real country but I know its just from the movie _Team America_."

"Well... uhhh... sorry, but my parents never let me see that movie so I can't help you with that fellas."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Cartman noted, as Stan pulled items out of the sack and used Butters' bed as a table. After 15 minutes of examining the pictures of various newspapers, letters, and maps (with few of the items containing any English words), and realising that while the dates of the documents were from the past few years, they could still make little sense of the items, and the unwanted guests packed up the sack.

"Err... get well soon and all then Butters, see ya," Stan said as he headed for the exit.

"Later fag!"

"Aah, well *sniff*, see you real soon fellas, I hope you stop those terrorists, my dad'll get awful sore and ground me again if-if there's no school to go to anymore."

"We'll try our best Butters."

The boys walked downstairs, with Cartman asking: "Well if we're not studying this stuff at Butters' house anymore, what idea could you possibly have that's better Stan?"

"It's okay dude, I think I know someone who can help."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Another chapter down, I hope you enjoyed it. With all that has happened over the past few days, I thought this chapter could easily be called 'You Be Soft'. No? I'll just carry on then ;).

That Sharon & Sheila part was probably as 'emotional' as this story's going to get, but I can never be too sure until the end. The 'butt buddy' comment is just meant to be an insult from Cartman, I can't believe I have to write this to be clear but on this site you can never be sure, _I do not support any of these wierd romantic 'pairings' in any way, shape, or form_. Stan is not trying to rescue his gay lover, he is trying to rescue his best friend, don't get any ideas.

In other news, for the first time this story, next chapter name votes are available! Your choices are 'Informed Infidels', 'Eur-opening the Search', 'Das Safehaus', and 'Goddamned Swiss Hippie'. I'm carrying on Stan and Cartman's story plus what is happening at the school, I'm not sure how this will work yet but if you want me to split it in two parts then suggest it in the reviews. For the chapter votes, though, simply visit my profile and pick your favourite, and remember, comment & enjoy. _I really need to think up a better closing catchphrase..._

* * *

_UPDATE - According to the latest news, South Park is not coming back till a 10-episode run in September. It's not great, sure, but I'm only angry at the fact that it's now ruined my 'radio' joke (if you still don't get it _;:/_, the episode schedule and video game release date at the time of writing). I'll keep it in, though, for a reminder of times gone by ;) and because I don't want to have to go back and change anything else as well._


	5. Das Safehaus

_Monday 13th May 2013, 10:15_

Having walked more along the outside of the town to avoid any detection, the boys were arriving closer to the place Stan wanted to get to, all he had said was that they should show their evidence to 'Professor Jurgen'.

Cartman had naturally been moaning the entire journey about the lack of information and a difficult walk, but took a break from complaining to remind Stan about something: "Remember dude, we have to stick together with this now, its our best chance of surviving if any more terrorists come. I've seen this before in movies, if they only capture one of us but know there's two, then they start to torture you and make you give the other one up, they'll... shine a light on your face and squeeze and squeeze your balls until they pop like little grapes."

"Ow dude!," Stan exclaimed while clutching over slightly at the thought.

"That's right, these people won't show any mercy, and I don't think you'd handle yourself very well in that kind of situation, which is why we need to stick together no matter what. If we do get captured, then we'll have a much better chance if you just let me do all the talking."

Stan rolled his eyes at Cartman's inflated ego even in a life-or-death situation and carried on walking, but stopped when he noticed something strange nearby. "Dude, what the hell is that glowing orange thing over there?"

Cartman looked towards the front yard of a house that Stan was pointing towards, and made his way closer to take a look. "I think its like, a portal or something, let me go se-"

"Dude don't touch it! Let's just... poke it with a stick or something," Stan suggested while dragging his friend back, before walking off to find a long stick.

Letting Cartman perform the action, Stan watched as the fat boy slowly inched his way towards the thing with the stick held outwards, and upon the edge of it reaching a metre of the light, was swiftly sucked from Cartman's grip and into the orange object.

After witnessing this, the boys dared not to move any closer, but could make out the sound of distorted shouting from the other end: "Aaaah! Eeeda bafakala derka Muhammad al-derka bafakala!"

The pair crouched behind the house's wooden fence in fear when they heard electric sparks coming from the portal, and peeking over they noticed a man in rags and a gun had been spat out into South Park. The terrorist sounded a little confused, but then set off without detecting the American boys hidden nearby: "Allah jihad derkala, derka derka," he said as the voice faded into the distance.

Leaving it another minute or so, Stan and Cartman emerged from their hiding places: "Phew, that was too close dude. No more sticks."

"I guess I'm right though Stan, that's a portal where all the towel-heads are getting into our town somehow. So they've outsmarted our country's awesome defences, touche, Derkaderkastan."

Stan continued to look puzzled, as he thought about the matter while walking way with his friend and offering an alternative suggestion:"Dude, Derkaderkastan isn't a real country, it would be in Imaginationland at best, but I've thought of what it could be. Cartman, do you believe in... alternate universes? Y'know, realities different from ours?"

"Well Stan you provide an interesting proposal except that I really don't care much about any faggy sci-fi concepts. I mean I don't think you'll believe me 'cause you're too much like that jew-rat, but I've had a few time travel experiences before. Other than that-"

"-No, I believe you Cartman, and we all did with that hard drive thing last year, remember, but I think this is a little different to time travel. I know someone who told me about that stuff once, he said that there's a theory that every possible eventuality exists in alternate universes, what if all the evidence we saw is from a different history and the terrorists just 'crossed over' into our world somehow?"

"You do realise how retarded that sounds, right?"

"I don't know dude, it's just an idea, it makes the most sense so far, let's see if Professor Jurgen can figure anything out."

"Who the hell is Professor Jurgen?," Cartman kept asking as they walked further down the street, and got his slightly surprising answer when Stan knocked on his door.

"Oh, hallo boys, wilkommen, shouldn't you be in school?" the elderly man in a green Adidas tracksuit introduced with a European accent.

"Wait. Mr. Juntergarten?" Cartman asked of the resident.

"Dude, you know Professor Jurgen?"

Cartman raised an eyebrow, and replied in kind. "Dude, you know Mr. Juntergarten?"

"Please don't turn this into ein argument boys, I know you both but clearly in different capacities," he announced diplomatically: "I have met Stan a few times before because I am good friends with his friend James Siedler, while I know Eric because I volunteer to teach the German language class at the elementary school once a month."

"But Jurgen, I thought you were a geography specialist. I chose Spanish with Mr. Mackey for my language class, so I never knew."

"Well I come from Switzerland and speak fairly good English, I figured as I am living in this town I may as well pass on some of my more relatable knowledge to the children. I must admit, even though he can behave like ein kliene bastard, Eric is by far my most promising student, he is exceptional at the subject, and that's even if I am admittedly a little biased towards James in that class, he is like another grandson to me, you have to understand."

"Ay! I knew there was something going on between you guys in that class, you goddamn Swiss hippie! But yes, thank you for being honest about who the best student clearly is, it feels good to hear someone else say it for once, German flows easily off mah tounge."

Stan complimented Cartman as well, reflecting: "Yeah, that's one of the few things I don't have trouble admitting about you dude, you're awesome at picking up languages. I know we all learned Mongolian pretty quickly that one time, but other than that... even Kyle has trouble in Spanish class dude."

"Well ah would take that class just to outshine the Jew but I already scored too high on my Spanish entry quiz so I chose German instead. It was either that or going with Kinney to faggy Italian lessons."

"Sorry to interrupt this discussion boys, but is there a reason for you being here other than to discuss your foreign language fluency?"

Stan scratched his neck: "Err... yeah, sorry Jurgen. Yeah, there's a reason we're not in school. A terrorist group have taken it hostage, we're the only ones that escaped."

"Sheisse! Are die kinders still well? What has happened? Wer sind sie?"

A confused Stan looked at Cartman for clarification, as the fatter boy answered calmly: "First of all, perhaps go easy on the rude language, Mr. Juntergarten, there's children present. Just kidding dipshit, but I'm seriously, the last time we heard the kids are all hostage in the auditorium, there was no fatalities, and the terrorists are linked to al-Qaeda."

"Ooh, das ist nicht gut..."

Stan re-entered the conversation: "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, though, dude. Can we come in please?"

"Of course, you know that you are always welcome here Stan, more so given this situation. Two 9-year-old boys and a 66-year-old man murdered by al-Qaeda on his front lawn would not make a pleasant newspaper headline. Come," the man instructed the pair inside.

From the outside, the green house #4092 was like any other in South Park, and inside gave off a similar feeling, but with a few added decorations that made the place look more like a Swiss mountain cottage, enough to make Stan surprised that there _wasn't_ a wall full of cuckoo clocks somewhere the first time he visited.

After an offer of hot chocolate was politely declined by Stan on behalf of the pair, Professor Jurgen led the boys to an upstairs room that he claimed to be his study (the walls of which were decorated with flags of the world, sporting memorabilia, and other collectibles, while furniture consisted of office equipment, books, and globes, amongst other items), and motioned for Stan to set the contents of the sack out on an empty desk, asking for the whole story.

"So you see Mr. Juntergarten..." Cartman began

"Please Eric, you aren't in class right now, you can just call me Jurgen, Professor Jurgen, or even JJ if you like."

"Alright then JJ, let me make this as clear as possible for your foreign little brain as it may be difficult for you to follow. We were in school, following our gay little schedule as usual, then in the morning announcements some terrorist guy comes in and says they're taking over the school. Ah tried to escape before they could put me in their wierd Muslim concentration camp, but I tripped over this animal-loving pussy here and got us both seperated from the group. Then we've just been on the run, having to avoid terrorists, Kahl's mom, all the usual shit. After we went past this wierd orange portal thing, we came here 'cause Stan reckons you can help us. Oh, and we found this sack from them, which had something in it from 'Derkaderkastan', but hippie here doesn't believe its a real country."

"Well you came to the right place to settle that argument boys, I am a professor of geography Eric. My prized project in life has been working with several groups to create a database that lists and details every country that ever is, was, or could have been over the past 3 centuries, and I can categorically confirm that there is no country called 'Derkaderkastan', Stan is right. Hey, wasn't that from ze movie _Team America_?"

The blue-hatted boy couldn't help punching the air a little at this revelation: "_There_, an _expert_ says so as well. _Now_ do you believe me fatass?", and taking the silent response as a moral victory.

"Wait... Eric, you said something about a 'wierd orange portal'? Seltsam."

"Yeah dude, Stan's coming up with faggy sci-fi theories about fucking 'alternate realities' and shit, I'm pretty sure a learned person such as yourself would disagree?" The pitch of Cartman's voice had gotten annoyingly higher with every word.

"Zat ist a difficult one my boy, I take it you are talking about the multiverse theory, ja? I don't have a very strong professional interest in the area, but it has always intrigued me, and I do believe it could be a reality, If you'll pardon the pun. Despite the problems that have arisen, this could be such a fascinating discovery, think of the possibilities boys! Of course, I will need to review your evidence first, though."

Professor Jurgen and Stan took seats at the table of artifacts taken from the Derkaderkastanis, as Stan explained in more detail everything he and Cartman knew from the day so far, answering any questions as best he could. The younger of the researching duo was very engaging with his Swiss host, and watching Jurgen at work, realised that geography interested him a lot more than the similarly-named subject that was sometimes forced on him at home, although his dad was certainly right about one thing - an expert sounds even more knowledgeable with a European accent. Cartman, meanwhile, was not as captivated, and after getting bored in less than 5 minutes he sloped off to find the bathroom.

After the fat boy finally emerged a quarter of an hour later, Stan rushed towards the door (having fidgeted and reminded Jurgen several times in those 15 minutes that he 'really needed a piss') but quickly rushed out again, slamming the door behind him and covering his nose: "Aaaaagh! Cartman! What the fuck did you do in there!?"

"Ay! Mah body works the same way as yours Stan! And unlike most pussies in this world, I'm not afraid to do it in someone else's house, alright!?"

"Yeah, but Jesus Christ, no-one can go in that room for about 10 years now, dude! JJ, is it okay if I go in your backyard? I'm bursting but not enough to hold my breath in _that_ place." Stan asked quickly while hopping from one foot to the other, fearing total embarrassment if he stayed still for even a second.

"Ja, go ahead then, just don't poison my tulips," the man grinned and sighed as he listened to the fastest footsteps he had heard in years.

After his friend was out of earshot, Cartman turned to the old man, proposing: "I'd usually be more creative with this but let's cut to the chase. I need dirt on you JJ, I get the goods on everyone I meet. What's your secret, your biggest flaws?"

The man almost laughed at the ambitious request, joking along, "Well, uzzer people have called me an 'absent-minded professor'..."

"I'm seriously JJ, I need to know these things," Cartman asked while pulling out his Derkaderkastani pistol to the great fear of the man sitting opposite him: "I know you're not unbreakable dude, now tell me."

"Scheisse! Let's not do anything hasty, please! What is it that you want from me?"

The fat boy sighed: "Really, JJ, you're trying my patience here, I can't just call you JJ all the time JJ, I need something I can rip on about you. Everyone's got something, Stan's an animal-loving hippie, Kinny's poor, Kahl's a Jew..."

"Kyle Broflovski? What sort of problem could you have with him? I have him, Stan, and James over sometimes for group tutoring in geography, they're all nice boys and I see them as good friends of mine. Why take issue on little things like their religion or wealth?"

"Group tutoring huh? That's interesting to know, yes... but seriously JJ, you don't need to know my reasons. Just give me an embarrassing secret about you and we can forget this ever happened."

"Well... I am often very forgetful, like this one time..."

Cartman prodded the gun closer: "Not good enough! How about your family? You got any wierd people, foreigners, cripples, Jews, bit of tension in the ol' relationship? Talk to me, JJ."

"Well much of my family live in Switzerland, I thought you would have assumed that. No-one has disabilities or is Jewish, luckily I get along with all of mein extended relatives. I still visit regularly, I only moved to South Park for a fresh start and a change of scene after my dear wife passed away 2 years ago."

"Go on..."

Luckily for the professor's sake Cartman heard Stan's footprints, causing the fat boy to start putting the gun back in his coat pocket as the door opened: "Dude Cartman, I don't think you've met this little guy-what the hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed as the cat in his arms flew to the ground and ran off.

"Err... nothing, just having a little talk with JJ nyah."

"I saw you put something silver in you pocket! Were you pulling a fucking gun!?"

"Well maybe I did maybe I didn't Stan, what we can all agree on is that for a 'professor' this guy doesn't give many decent answers."

"What!?"

"I'm just... trying to find something to rip on him for, you know, like all guys do, remember?"

"Err... yeah. But how could you have a problem with Professor Jurgen? He's great, I'll bet he's done more in his life than you'll probably ever do."

"Oh please. Remember the time I invented the 'fishsticks' joke, or almost won a second Civil War? What about curing AIDS, did this 'professor' do that? He might be old and have some degree in Europe, but even you've been through more than JJ has, pussy."

"Actually, I'm not sure what you boys have been up to, but I have visited over 200 entries that are on my country list, still counting, even if our associate Norbert does most of the 'exploring' for our organisation."

Stan saw where the discussion could have been heading, and called out his fat friend: "Look guys, this probably isn't a time to go into an argument over who's done more with their life, for once just fucking drop it Cartman, okay? JJ's here to help us."

"Fayhne, I guess I can just stick with the fact that you're a lame Swiss geography nerd for now."

"An apology would have been nice but I understand you might be under some stress right now Eric with all that is happening, so I guess I'll let this whole incident slide."

"Are you sure dude? I will kick the crap out of him for you if he..."

"No need Stan, just save your anger for any of those terrorists should you encounter them, you're probably quite stressed as well."

The boy sighed: "Yeah, you're right... my best friend and girlfriend are hostage to those bastards right now, as well as most of the other people I know. Like you said earlier, we need to stick together Cartman, I can't risk losing anyone else and us three are the only people that are even close to working out what the hell's going on right now. Truce?"

Stan held out a hand which after a few seconds Cartman shook: "Truce. Don't worry Stan, I wanna see those sand monkeys gone just as much as you do, listen to me and we _can_ stop them, I _will_ think of something."

Stan knew that the fat boy standing opposite him was the best possible person to work with for this situation, and grinned back: "Cool. So... did you find anything Jurgen?"

"Ja, it ist not much but I haben sussed out a little information, I'll explain downstairs, I think my cats need feeding anyway."

The boys' faces both secretly lit up a little more at the mention of the pets, and Stan carried the sack downstairs to the professor's living room, where after a few minutes in the kitchen the homeowner took a seat between them as 'Columbus' and 'Globox' curled up on Cartman and Stan's laps.

"So, a cat person huh?" Cartman asked much calmer than his usual self.

"Ja, they are very relaxing pets to have, and not much work to keep either. I cannot stand dogs, especially after a vicious one chased me 40 metres down the streets of St Gallen back in '68. He would have torn my leg off if I hadn't run."

"Kewl. Cats are awesome, though."

As much as he hated to stop Cartman from a rare moment of genuine serenity, Stan tried to bring the conversation back on focus: "Guys, I love cats as much as both of you, but seriously, more important stuff right now..."

Everyone in the room agreed, and the boys both relaxed and stroked their furry companions as the man opened up the newspaper map Stan had been looking at earlier: "You see boys, I think you may be right, the pictures and articles that I can actually read do not match up to any recent history that I am aware of, and this map and documents would appear to be proof that they are not from our world, else these terrorists have an excellent eye for forgery."

"So Derkaderkastan..." Cartman led.

"Is most likely a country from an alternate universe, somehow connected to ours by the portal you talked about, this map is of the same landmass but different and fewer nations."

"So what did you find out about them from all this?" Stan asked.

"I had better explain the map first before anything else. You see, the reality depicted here seems to imply that there are only 16 countries in the world, I do not know why that is but most territories have merged into a number of larger political powers."

The boys did not hold him up with questions, so Jurgen continued explaining while pointing at the colour-coded world map: "Normally I'd take the time to detail the smaller countries as well but let's just focus on the main ones on this map. Europe appears to be the most divided, we have here the British Isles and what we know as France, Switzerland, Iceland, and Greenland all merged into one territory called 'Britainland'. The others entirely in Europe are Naziland, Yugoslavland, and Czechoslovakialand, then stretching from Russia down south to Papua New Guinea here is Sovietland."

Cartman rolled his eyes: "And this fits into everything how-land?"

The professor sighed: "I am merely demonstrating how the process seems to work, Eric. The only other significant-sized nations are Tribe of Za'ire-land in sub-saharan Africa, and Digeridooland in Australia and New Zealand. Then, of course, Derkaderkastan, which runs from Southern Asia across the Middle East and North Africa to Spain and Portugal, while the large green area here is Molossialand, it seems to be what America is in this different reality."

"All of North and South America?" Stan asked curiously noticing how much was shaded.

"Ja, pretty much my boy, give or take a few islands and such. But this newspaper suggests that they are Derkaderkastan's biggest rival, with wars constantly occurring on eachother's soil. Good thing they don't share a border, other countries seem to push each other's boundaries daily, like the 'disputed territory' lines on Google Earth but as much as 100 kilometres either side."

"So what are these wars about?" Cartman pressed.

"I can't really be sure, all the newspapers describe the Molo-Derka War as though everyone already knows the reasons, which wouldn't surprise me but it's no help to us. Everything else on this map appears to be razzer stereotypical, though, so you could pretty much guess why 'Americans' and 'Arabs' are fighting. It seems as though all of Derkaderkastan is ruled by al-Qaeda, but in that reality their attacks are a lot more frequent and severe. Aside from a minor 'Molobrit' alliance it seems to be a direct one-on-one fight."

Stan raised an eyebrow: "So just to be clear, these terrorists are the worst kind of stereotypes, and are nothing to do with anything in our universe?"

"Apart from the al-Qaeda connections, ja."

"So killing them if we need to will not be a problem..." Cartman continued hopefully.

"No, aside from our own laws of course, but we are on the side of Molossialand in this battle judging from the stories, even if it is not meant to be our fight."

"Just so we're _absolutely_ sure, we can hate Derkaderkastan _without_ feeling guilty at all?" Stan clarified.

"Ja, I would ordinarily be very against that sort of anti-kulturellen verhaltens, but they are from a universe where tensions run extremely high between the cultures, it would probably be offensive not to hate them while they are here."

"And they would take down _our_ school because..."

"I can only assume that they had been targeting a Molo building that looks similar for some sort of attack, and when they went through the portal and after seeing the English language, somehow assumed they were in the right place and went for your school, then despite realising it was not their original target just went with it anyway."

"So we're in this mess just 'cause some goddamn towelheads from another fucking universe don't know what an American flag looks like?" Cartman protested.

"Seems that way Eric, these pictures show the Molo flag to be different to the American one. Maybe they just assume the American flag to represent your town."

Stan began to offer suggestions: "What do we do then? Get them killed? Force them back through the portal?"

"It is very difficult to tell. We cannot let them stay here that is for sure, but too many people would be at risk should the public learn of the portal, it would throw them straight into that alternate universe if what you boys said is true."

"Well I heard these cops... and Kyle's mom... saying that the CIA and FBI are on their way, will that help?"

"I cannot really predict the future Stan, they are the best people for handling terrorists but how they treat them here could depend entirely on how much information they have, those organisations have plenty of knowledge on abnormalities but a multiverse portal might be something even they have not encountered."

Cartman interrupted, boldly claiming: "Shut up for a minute you guys, I told you I can think of something and I will once I don't have to listen to a bunch of hippies running their mouths, I've dealt with terrorists like 5 times already and I can do it again," the boy shut his eyes and thought for around half a minute while stroking Columbus: "Hmm, yes... you guys... yes, ehhh, got it. I know what we need to do next Stan."

"What?"

"It's... better that I show you dude, come on."

The old man noticed Cartman heading for the door and stopped him worried: "Wait, you don't mean to tell me you're just going out there."

"Err... yeah, that's why I'm walking out the door geogra-nerd. Come on Stan."

"Look, the terrorists might not be limited to the school, they could be about town as well, surely it's better if you stay here with me and we can work something out in relative safety."

"You see Stan, this is why we can't trust adults on this, they're just holding us back. JJ, we're just kids, seriously, no-one knows we left the school, we're fahne. Now come with me or else... my bare hands Stan, my fuckin' bare hands, I'm seriously."

Stan was caught in the middle of the pair, looking back to the friendly face of Professor Jurgen, who would try to work on a less dangerous plan and keep him calm and safe in his house at the same time, and forward to Cartman, who was the exact opposite, but more direct with getting things done and already had a plan that he could follow.

He was genuinely unsure of who to turn to, and after listening to the same old arguments for about a minute, had enough and announced his decision. "Guys just calm down alright! Cartman, stop yelling at JJ, he's just looking out for us. Sorry though Jurgen, I have to go with fatass here. I can't risk not knowing where another friend has gone, so I need to stick with him. He's dealt with terrorists before and hopefully he can do it again. We'll be fine, like Cartman said, no-one knows we're gone, at worst we're probably just a couple of kids ditching school right now, but it looks like we're the only ones that can actually do something."

"Well if I come with you-"

"Ooooh no, we don't need any old people slowing us down on this."

Stan bit his lip: "Err... yeah, you probably should stay JJ, you don't need to risk yourself for no reason, and Cartman'll end up slowing us down just by trying to rip on you all the time. Besides, research is what you do best, you said so yourself, right? You can take some our files and call me if you find out anything, I know you need a bit of time to work better."

"Hm, I suppose so, I can probably also investigate the anomaly down the street with my binoculars. I don't want you boys to lose track of anything, though, so I will just photocopy what I think I need, give me 10 minutes."

The boys entertained themselves with the cats while the man did what he needed in his study, returning with the sack, putting his hand on Stan's shoulder as he addressed the pair: "Please boys, be careful out there, I cannot stress that enough. Seriously, if you want to stay here..."

"Sorry dude, when Cartman puts his mind to something its almost impossible to talk him out, I've just gotta go with whatever he does to try and fix this."

"Well I don't have much of a place to stop you if that is what you want to do. But please just stay safe, promise that you will stick together, and if you need anywhere to come back to I am right here if you need me."

"Will do Jurgen, hopefully it won't come to that though."

The old man lightly patted Stan on the back: "Yes, goodbye boys, good luck."

"Thanks. Bye JJ, by the way, your tracksuit looks very... 'Biffish', I just noticed that."

The man grinned: "Well I like it, and I wasn't planning on going anywhere today, plus I am trying to prove a couple of points, professors don't need to dress smartly all the time, and you can wear this colour of tracksuit without being ein douchebag. "

"Well it's working, oh, and you might wanna hire someone to look at your bathroom, that stench Cartman made isn't gonna go away on its own. See ya soon," Stan called as he followed Cartman down the street with the professor looking on worriedly.

* * *

_**A/N:** First of all, sorry if this one dragged on a bit (a lot) longer than it needed to, I had to try and explain everything while introducing the original character enough. Professor Jurgen was a character idea I had for later on in my 'With Hate, The CIA' story (that's a spoiler alert for if I ever get round to more of that one), but hopefully you get the idea that he's new in town, Stan has known him for a few months, and he's a nice generic 'absent-minded professor' type specialising in geography. And he hates dogs._

_I was also going to try and link Cartman's activities to the Swiss people from the 'More Crap' episode, but couldn't fit it in anywhere (Jurgen probably needs to call in an expert plumber or something)._

_Special thanks to Google Translate without which many of Professor Jurgen's German tics would not have been possible. English is my first and probably only language but if I was forced to pick one to learn, German looks like the easiest because of how similar some of the words are._

_Anyone who can guess five times that Cartman has dealt with terrorists (I'm probably forgetting some, and ones where he was the terrorist don't count) gets... the pride of knowing they know. What, you expect a prize or something?_

_Again, sorry if it went on a little, but I hope you enjoyed it, the next chapter will show what has been going on at the school since Stan and Cartman left (and in particular how Kyle and Kenny are holding up), it was going to be here but just would have added even more onto this one, but that does mean it's almost done and should be online soon. Keep on commenting!_

_**PS** - If you haven't already, check out my other recent story 'Slippery Slope', it could do with some views and feedback._


	6. Informed Infidels

_Monday 13th May, 08:50_

The school auditorium was usually a part of the school that its students wouldn't mind visiting if it meant a break from their lessons, but all of the occupants, with the exception of around 20 Derkaderkastani terrorists, wanted to be anywhere else as the room slowly filled class-by-class.

After their delay, the 4th graders with Mr. Garrison made their way inside and took up an empty block of seats in the higher rows closest to the doors. Any attempts at talking were quickly silenced by the guards, until about an hour later when Principal Victoria was forced on-stage to announce the latest news on behalf of their captors.

After being handed a note, she read aloud: "Students, as I said earlier, this is a hostage situation, so for your own safety please do not talk out of turn. The terrorists call themselves the 'al-Derka' group, and have instructed me to be their mouthpiece to you all, as their one member here who understands English has a permanently-damaged voicebox, so can only communicate through these notes."

A man dressed in rags sitting at a table by the stage stood up to make himself identified, as the woman continued: "They say that while they are holding this building as a key part of their battle, they do not wish for any potential young 'converts' to be harmed if possible, and that hostages are of no use to them if they are dead, so long as the authorities comply. That means you will be able to talk to eachother unless they have an announcement to make, but no-one is allowed to leave the room unless a terrorist instructs them to. They also do not want any suspicious items such as cell phones being used whilst you are captive, and will strongly punish anyone doing so."

Many of the teachers' minds turned to thoughts of 'good luck with that', as a man looking like a slightly higher authority of the group stood up to the microphone: "Allah Grand Master Derka Ahmed bajihad. Derka derka derka faklakala Muhammad Derkaderkastan al-shabab fah."

Principal Victoria was handed another quickly-written note to read at the podium: "That was the Grand Master Derka, saying that today will be a glorious day for his nation, and would like to share with you a specially-prepared video displaying the best parts of the country, a piece that will hopefully inspire all infidels to cleanse their minds and rally under 'the great cause'. Roll tape."

The lights dimmed and a projector turned on, and after a change of film (said to be done to put in the English-language version), though the first clips seemed to be more of a shoddy tourist video than the more hard-hitting film that the audience were expecting, as a loud announcer on the foreign movie began: "Greetings people of Molossialand, this video has been made to promote the proud and noble nation of Derkaderkastan. Aside from being the spiritual home of Islam and announced by the United Nations as having the world's 4th-biggest economy, Derkaderkastan is a country of great beauty and historic cities, from Dhaka in the east, to Lisbon in the west, and a vast land inbetween."

Looking confused, Kyle glanced at Kenny sitting next to him, who replied only with a shrug, while Tweek on his other side was not doing much different from his usual jittery movements. The half-hour film did try to pitch the group with a 'what can al-Derka do for you?' segment, but did not create any 'converts' as the lights went back on.

"Well, thank you for your entertainment, Mr. Grand Derka. Students, you are now permitted to talk quietly amongst yourselves, please follow the rules, though. No suspicious activity."

Kyle had many questions but no-one to ask them to other than the hooded boy next to him, as he began: "Dude, what the hell was that? Lisbon's in Portugal, Derkaderkastan isn't even a country, I don't think any of the ones in that movie were. Mr. Garrison?"

The teacher sat in front of them a few seats across looked back with a droaning voice: "The hell if I know Kyle, who can keep up with these friggin' towelheads and their countries? Keep it down, I don't wanna get shot today 'cause of some kid."

Kyle's thoughts suddenly turned to one of a 'brotherly' concern, as he looked around the room: "Dude, where's Ike? There's no kindergarteners anywhere."

"She said they were taken to the gym," Kenny replied.

"Oh my god, I hope he's okay. What the hell are they gonna do to him down there? What if they think they can get him to join al-Derka? Crap, my mom would kill me if that ever happened!"

"Dude just calm down, Ike's meant to be a genius," the parka-covered boy reassured.

"Maybe you're right Kenny, but these guys are hardcore terrorists, you can't be... where's Stan?" the green-hatted boy suddenly remembered while worrying for his 'like-a-brother': "I couldn't see him anywhere earlier Kenny, I thought he was just in another seat but he's nowhere in our group. Fatass as well."

"Yeah, he'd be hard to miss, what happened?"

Kyle spent the next 20 minutes worrying nervously about his brother and best friend (and as much as he hated to admit it, Cartman a little as well), but was stopped in his train of thought when some activity occurred, seeming to be an invitation for a bathroom break for the 4th graders as part of a rota that was going on, which surprisingly only Clyde and Craig took up.

A terrorist led the boys away at gunpoint to the downstairs bathroom, and while waiting for them to finish using the urinals, checked the stalls for their 'paper sack', but was outraged to find nothing there. "BAKALA!"

After returning to the auditorium with Clyde and Craig and frantically explaining to his colleagues what the problem was (to the fright and confusion of the Americans in the room), the 'English-speaking' terrorist left the room with a few other al-Derkas for 15 minutes, returning a minute before the lights were dimmed and the projector made a whirring sound as it turned on.

The image revealed stunned the 4th graders in particular, clearly a still taken from black-and-white security camera footage of the school, and showing Eric Cartman and Stan Marsh cautiously moving through the hallways, with Stan behind struggling to carry a large sack. While it was a blurry image, Kyle and Kenny could easily tell that the missing two members of their group were now 'on the run'.

After several minutes of consultation between the terrorists, the English writer handed over a note for Principal Victoria to announce: "Oh, there should be more paper in one of the classrooms, by the way. Ummm... _The image above you clearly shows a pair of infidels trying to ruin our plans, and as such we must make an example of them to show the rest of you who are blinded from the truth what happens if you do not bow to the cause. In Derkaderkastan, a thief will_... oh my goodness... _lose their hands for their crimes. And they have run away from us against orders, so it is only fitting that they also_... *sniff* _lose their feet once we find them. When we do hunt them down, we will learn more about what they have done using... any means necessary, then we shall let Allah decide how these boys will be punished for their insolence._ Oh please, do not harm those poor boys, surely it was some kind of mistake, leave them be!," she pleaded, knowing that at least one of the wanted party could have been 'innocent'.

The woman's pleading was met with an angry head shaking from the writer, as murmuring began in the audience while Kyle turned to Kenny with fear in his eyes: "Dude, they're gonna try and kill Stan and Cartman. We have to warn them somehow!"

"How dude? We can't escape and we can't call them."

"I know, but, err... what about a text message?"

"They said no cell phones Kyle."

"We have to try dude. Stan and Cartman could _fucking die_."

"I know, but they'll shoot you if they saw you getting your phone out, it'll look too obvious."

The green-hatted boy thought for a second before suggesting: "Then... maybe you can do it. Just, err... reach into my pants pocket and grab it."

The comment had Kenny stifling laughter as Kyle realised what was going on, hissing: "Dude, this isn't funny! Just reach into my pocket and get my goddamn BlackBerry out, it's not going to turn us gay and it'll look more like natural movement if its you reaching over to get the phone from me."

Kenny paused for a few seconds before deciding to reach in with his left hand as quickly and quietly as possible, fishing out Kyle's phone which was luckily in his right pocket. After struggling to operate it from the next seat across, the hooded boy slid the device to drop onto the floor, and after dragging it towards himself with his feet, carefully slipped off his footwear and began slowly composing a message with his toes.

* * *

_A/N: Just one of the wierd random talents I'd assume Kenny has. Next chapter is back with Stan and Cartman. Choices for the title are 'Lunch Break' and 'Doubles Down'. Happy reading!_


	7. Doubles Down

_Monday 13th May 2013, 11:30_

After spending about an hour in the safety of their Swiss host, Stan and Cartman were on the move again, heading towards town as Stan followed his fat friend, still not having any idea what his plan was.

"So Stan... I hear you're part of a gay little study group with JJ, James, and Jew," Cartman called over his shoulder mockingly.

Stan caught up and defended himself: "Shut up fatass, Jurgen's cool, we usually just go over there sometimes to hang out and pick up a few things about geography while we're there. He doesn't really sit us down and 'teach' us unless we need it, but since we've been seeing him our grades in it have all gotten better than before."

"Pfft, nerds."

"It's better than getting D's and F's all the time dipshit! A good grade never hurt anyone, especially if you've got someone like Jurgen who doesn't make it feel like 'learning'."

"Ay! I get A+'s in language, you usually get, like, B's in most stuff so suck on that, pussy. Besides, I don't really care about grades, I'm more street smart, know what I'm sayin'?"

Stan sighed, he wasn't going to be part of a pointless argument here, so walked slightly ahead. After a few minutes, an evil grin emerged on Cartman's face, and out of nowhere he tackled Stan onto the snowy ground of someone's front lawn, sitting on him to make sure he couldn't get up.

"Hey! Knock it off fatass, what the hell d'you think you're doing!?," the thinner boy fumed as he struggled under Cartman's weight.

"You've gotta be prepared for anything Stan, especially with terrorists around nyah," Cartman laughed as he reached into the victim's jeans pocket and took out all the money inside before counting it: "Let's see what we have hyah... $50!?"

The fat boy stood up in amazement while Stan spluttered at the relief and slowly got to his feet, demanding: "What the hell does it matter to you fatass, just give it back!"

"Ah ah ah, not till you tell me _why_ you have so much money."

"Stop playing games Cartman!" Stan argued as he reached for Cartman's hand which was holding the money away from him tauntingly.

"Well if you don't have a good reason for this money ah guess you don't need to keep it."

"Fine dude... you win, it's for Kyle's birthday present, I was gonna get it after school today."

"Kahl?! Just buy him a fucking dreidel if you have to, why the hell would you want to waste any good money on that Jew-rat?!"

"Let me think, because he's my best friend, dumbass? And I found an awesome gift."

"Well for $50 it would be awesome, what is it hippie?"

"It's not all being spent on Kyle... I'm getting him _two_ tickets to ERB Live, they're doing a show in Denver the weekend after his birthday."

"ERB? That webseries?"

"Yeah dude, _Epic Rap Battles of History_, it's really funny, they even said the name of our town in that Kim Jong-Il episode for some reason. They're gonna have loads of the guest stars and stuff, and it only costs $20 each."

"So tell me Stan, in any of this, did your selfish ass ever consider inviting _me_ along with you gahs? What about Kinny? He's poor as fuck and hardly ever gets to go to these things."

"Well, dude, I'm not made of money, and this is more like a 'best friends' thing, y'know? And I had to arrange it all with Kyle's parents in secret, his dad's dropping us off and picking us up but he's probably gonna have Ike in the car with him. That means there's not gonna be enough room for all four of us in there, especially with your huge ass. Anyway, you don't even like that show, the only episode you said you enjoyed is that Hitler and Darth Vader battle!"

"It's okay I guess, just all too 'educational' for me, you know? And saying I have a 'huge ass' isn't the best way to talk to someone who has your precious money now is it? I'm big boned and you know it, scrawny little hippie."

"Can you _please_ just give it back Cartman?"

The fat boy paused for a few seconds for dramatic effect, before taunting: "Eeeh, how about no, that Jew doesn't deserve a present for his birthday, plus this money can help with what I was planning, come along Stan, _we don't want to get split up do we_?"

The blue-hatted boy reluctantly followed, but after five minutes of walking raged again when he noticed what Cartman was talking about: "Oh my god, no, no, you are such a dick Cartman! THIS was your big idea!?"

Cartman turned around looking almost offended on the parking lot of KFC: "Yes Stan, it's lunchtime, alright?"

"Dude, it's half-eleven, what kind of-"

"It's only a little earlier than normal, and it's never too early for special skin and mashed potatoes."

"I thought we were in this _together_ to try and beat the terrorists! You made me leave Professor Jurgen's house just to watch you fill your fat ass with fucking chicken?!"

"It's not just chicken Stan, it's KFC, alrayht? This is thinking food, I always get good ideas when I'm soaking in Colonel's yummy goodness, and I haven't had some for like two weeks, like part of mah soul has been torn from me. You can fight it all you want dude, but ah mean, we both know I'm going in there and having lunch, so if you don't want any that's your choice, I can live with that, but that would just make it a bigger waste of your money now wouldn't it?"

Stan's eyebrows narrowed further as he growled in the direction of the fat boy waddling towards the front doors, he seriously felt like knocking him out cold right there and then, gaining a bit more respect for Kyle for not doing so already over the years they had all known eachother, but remembered his promise to Professor Jurgen, he couldn't risk not keeping up his 'buddy' system right now, so followed Cartman inside, just in time to hear his order in the near-deserted restaurant.

"Yes... ah'll have... a bucket of 6, 1 fries, 2 gravys, mashed potato, 2 medium Pepsis, and aaaa double down."

"That'll be $17.50."

Stan clenched his fists as he saw Cartman offer the cashier money from his $50 wad and pocketing back the change.

"There you go sir, no _thank you_. Mah friend over there's paying for this, isn't he great?" The fat boy said mockingly.

Minutes later Cartman took his tray over to a booth where a furious Stan was waiting, asking through gritted teeth: "Seriously dude, what the fuck is your problem?"

"That I'm hungry? I haven't eaten anything for _four_ _hours_ dude, you can't work on an empty stomach, plus this place makes a good hideout from those terrorists. If you don't wanna eat any of this then that's fine, just don't come crying to me when we walk out that door in half-hour and _you're_ the one whining about being hungry. Besides, you need it Stan, scrawny-ass hippie, you gotta have food if you wanna become a BEEFCAKE like me."

Stan glared at his friend opposite and decided to have a little of the food in front of him, he would have forgotten lunch if he was on his own and he sure as hell wasn't going to give Cartman the satisfaction of a full meal out of _his_ pocket.

After eating a couple of chicken pieces and some fries with gravy (as Cartman worked his way through most of the huge order), Stan felt a vibration in his jeans pocket, luckily his fat douche of a friend hadn't taken his phone as well.

"Dude, I think I've got a text, who do you think it is? It's schooltime right now."

Cartman laughed with his mouth full of mashed potato "Hah! Why don't you just answer it rather than wiping your hands dipshit? You're almost as bad as the Jew."

"'Cause I don't wanna get grease on my phone lard-face! Let's see... it's from Kyle."

"Oh gee, what a surprise."

"Shut up! How could..." Stan opened the message, reading aloud in a surprised tone while correcting some clear mistakes: "_Hey dude, it's Kenny on Kyle's phone, I'm typing this with my toes so they don't see us, but no-one's gotten hurt yet. We're all locked in the auditorium and they're threatening to shoot us if we get out, but no-one has yet. Kyle said he doesn't know what the hell you're doing with fatass, but we need to warn you that they're onto you guys, dude, they even showed your pictures on a security camera. They've sent a couple of the al-Derkas out to town and said they're gonna chop off your hands and legs and maybe kill you if they find you, so wherever you guys are please just lay low and stay out the fucking way. PS - there are no hot chicks anywhere in this 'Derkaderkastan' place they're telling us about, they'll have to kill me before I join them._"

"Shitballs. How the hell could those towel-heads have spotted us?"

"Through the security camera! *sigh* I mean, it's obviously a better situation than if we were walking round the school still dude, they probably don't even know we're here, but we still have to be extra careful now Cartman, we might make another slip-up."

"No shit sherlock."

"Well where do we go from here?"

"Gimmie a minute to think already, christ! Brain food, remember?"

"Fine fatass, _be that way_, I'm gonna call Professor Jurgen while we wait, see if we can go back to his place."

Stan called the number and got a near-instant pick-up: "Hey JJ."

"Hallo Stan, you're both staying safe I take it?"

"Err... yeah, b-"

"Sehr gut son, I guess that means you're free to talk a little then huh?"

Stan glared at the boy opposite who was devouring a chicken piece: "Yeah, we've probably got a while where we are right now dude."

"Great, we never got a chance to catch up earlier did we, plus I forgot to ask you - I wanted your opinion on something."

"What's that?"

"I am trying to get a birthday present for James, he's off to Doudeville, France again for that cultural trip during his actual birthday so I was going to get him something early... then I found this show in Denver called ERB Live in a couple of weeks. He likes that series right?"

The boy laughed a little: "Yeah, most of us guys do. In fact... I'm trying to get Kyle tickets for his birthday-"

"Oh, well if that's the case then-"

"No, it's cool dude, maybe we'll see each other down there if the seats are close enough, that is, if I can get even get it for Kyle, what with that terrorism thing and Fatass here just jumping me and stealing my money."

"Stole your money? Who, Eric?"

"Who d'ya think? He sat on me and pulled $50 right out of my jeans pocket, then he went and spent some of it at KFC, he's acting like a total dick right now," Stan made sure to sound the last eight words loud and clear.

"Wow, he ist more of ein arshe than I thought. Eric, can you hear me? For the love of God, please just give it back. Your behaviour is appalling and it really couldn't come on a worse day."

Cartman briefly looked up from his food, answering loudly so the phone could hear: "Hmm... how about 'no', that sound good JJ? I know what I'm doing nyah, Stan's just acting like a pussy, he needs to give me my fucking space alright? _Fucking Swiss hippie, tell me what to do..._"

"Err... Jurgen? We kinda have a bigger problem though."

"Ja? Wos is das?"

"I got a text from my friend Kenny who's still in the school, he said that the al-Derkas have noticed we're gone and are now trying to hunt us down."

"Crap. You boys haven't done anything else to give away your position?"

"No way dude, we've been super careful with this, we don't wanna die."

"Gut, now keep it that way. Where are you now?"

"Still in KFC, it's practically empty so we're safe, but I can't really go anywhere until _fatass_ here decides to stop stuffing his face for 5 minutes and help solve this problem we're all in."

"Ja, that would be the most important thing. Whatever happens please try to stick together, even if your friend is being a _schweinhund_."

"Ay!"

"Please stay safe boys, and don't hesitate to call if you need my help. Apart from everyone's safety, I sure hope those terrorists are caught and brought to swift justice soon, I have an important flight to France that I need to catch tomorrow morning."

"What's it for?"

"Errm, part meeting up with James, Adler, and mein extended family, part business, we're shooting an Adidas commercial that's going out in Ogdenville, a business meeting for Horizonal, a lecture in Le Havre, then a few _Eurovision_ viewing parties before I come home next week, but I can tell you about that some other time. I mean, I can miss it all if I need to but..."

"Yeah, I know how you feel, we'll do what we can from here though, bye," Stan sighed, mainly due to his frustration with Cartman, who eventually decided he had had enough KFC for one day and vacated the booth with only a small amount of leftovers remaining.

"Wait, we can't go out there without a plan dude, tell me."

The fat boy sighed, explaining as they walked: "Don't worry dude, just stick with me like ah said, alright? I've just remembered something which-who the hell are they?"

Stan instantly knew who he was referring to, as they had walked out to the parking lot where three boys their age were standing, and with all that had happened today, Stan could tell instantly from their clothes that they had come through the portal from Derkaderkastan.

"Alright, just keep cool dude, let's just walk away, we can't be too careful," Cartman instructed, and trying to avoid eye contact, the American boys quietly and quietly headed for the street, but were interrupted by a thin member of the foreign gang marching forward and shouting: "You there! Molos! Stop!"

Cartman turned at this and strode angrily towards the boy that had called them out, replying: "Ay! We aren't no gay molos, dick!"

"You're probably just saying that, vanilla-face. In fact... you two are probably the escaped kids we heard about. Infidels!"

By this point Stan had arrived, and nervously tried to diffuse the situation: "Look, err... ah... err... we're, err... not the people you're looking for, just leave us alone-hey... I know who you are dude, we met all three of you when we went to Afghanistan, you're like the Afghan version of me."

"I do not know what you are talking about. There is no such place as Afghanistan, I am a proud Derkaderkastani."

Stan refrained from making any comments that would reveal their identities, and pulled Cartman in: "Dude, don't you remember, the goat thing? All of them acted kinda like someone in our group."

"Oh yeah... I remember that neow, animal hippie. Yeah, you're afghani-Stan, that other skinny one there was like Kahl, not sure who the other kid's meant to be."

"Ay! Derka derka mufafala jihad!" The fat al-Derka yelled.

"You two are not making any sense! We are not Afghan!"

"Then they must be from the alternate universe..." Stan deduced, before asking: "You... seriously don't remember us? And how come you can speak English but those other guys aren't?"

"No, we have never seen you before in our lives, praise Allah. And I was placed on an English course so I could handle Molos like you that try to confuse us, I am the best student in my class and the al-Derkas drafted me on emergency at the hostage location, their main speaker has sore throat. If you tell me where it is then we might spare your lives."

Stan gulped, but luckily the perfect person was on hand to cover for him: "Okay then derka derka sherpa sherpa, you take a left, then walk down the road for about 2 miles then take a right and another right, you should be at a place called 'Middle Park Elementary', that's where you wanna go, we heard about it on the news, _just... don't hurt too many, okay_?" Cartman added fake sobbing to the last few words to sound more convincing, and the foreigner seemed to have bought it.

"2 miles? I don't understand your Molo system, what is that in dharis?"

"I don't fucking know you fucking towel-head just read the fucking signs! FUCK!"

"You are helpful, but the pair of you have not proven to be welcoming hosts to our invasion, we cannot risk you warning others of our presence here. Get them."

Seconds after the words were spoken, the derka version of Kyle pulled out a dagger and threw it towards the Americans but missed by a distance, but it was enough to anger Cartman enough into pulling out his pistol and shooting the boy.

"Jesus Christ!" Stan exclaimed.

"You denounce the name of Muhammad and you kill our friend. He shall be avenged!" The two remaining al-Derkas pulled their pistols out against Cartman's leaving a standoff between the two pairs of lookalikes, with a weapon-less Stan left terrified while standing near Cartman's side, not daring to move.

"Go ahead, make my day." Cartman taunted.

"It's two against one."

"You talking to me bitch? Cause I'm feeling lucky, punk'."

Even knowing that Cartman might actually have the skill to take both enemies down, Stan did not like where this was likely to head for all involved, and gulped as he spoke up "What... if we fought... some other way?"

His foreign counterpart looked interested while keeping his gun pointed towards Cartman: "Such as?"

"Well... if we, you know, tried to... settle this... like men? No weapons guys, it's not fair on me otherwise."

"What would be the point in that?"

"Well, y'know, what would be the point in killing everyone on the spot, at least no-one else would die if we fought a different way. Do you really need that? If someone finds us dead in this parking lot then they'll track you down, and you really don't wanna mess with Cartman here, he's awesome at shooting, I bet he could take you both down."

Cartman agreed: "Yeah! You wanna take that risk, or you wanna throw down? 'Cause mah trigger finger wants to give mah feet a treat first, they're hungry for some ass to kick bitch!"

The al-Derka boy rolled his eyes at the challenge: "Fine, we can send you imbeciles to the depths of hell using only our fists. Derkaderkastan is the better country at whatever we face you stupid Molos in, you ox's head."

"Then drop the guns and we can fight." Stan instructed.

The enemy raised an eyebrow: "What if this is a trick? If we lower our guard and your friend shoots us?"

"Because I seriously don't wanna risk dying and _hopefully_ he realises that. Hmm... to make it fair, what if your fatass drops his gun first, then you and my fatass drop guns at the same time."

"Ahhhh, okay. Dishba Molo la derkala Muhammad Ali bakamaka maka derka," the instruction seemed to get through to the fatter foreigner who angrily released his weapon to the floor.

"Okay good, now we're getting somewhere," Stan said hopefully: "Dude, derka kid, on three. One... two... three."

To pleasant surprise from Stan his dangerous friend and the young terrorist both kept their word, and after everyone had kicked their weapons to the side, the enemy began: "So how are we going to fight, Molos?"

"Dude, there's no rules when you throw down, you just do it. I don't know what you douchebags do in your faggy country but-"

"-In Derkaderkastan we have a manner in which this situation is dealt with. If there is a level number of people on each side, then we fight individually, according to how we would be most... evenly matched," the foreigner noted while sizing up the two fat boys. He then pointed at Stan: "That means I choose you to do battle with."

"Me? But you and Cartman are... forget it, fine, let's go kid."

"Then what are you waiting for? To enjoy the contours of your face before it becomes like a vekhra?!"

"No! I'm just... err... I just need to take my coat off first."

Cartman spotted Stan's nerves as he slipped off his gloves and pulled him over before he put his jacket on the ground: "Dude what the hell! This fight was your idea, don't tell me you're pussing out on this Stan!"

"Hey I'm not pussing out fatass, just... what if he's like, military trained or something? He said he's a 'top student', I could get my ass kicked!"

"Well it's better than being shot, which is what you would have been if you didn't stop that standoff. You're like, pissed at me for some reason right now right? Use that anger and kick the crap out of that bastard, I can easily take the fat kid over there."

"That's why I wanted to fight that kid, I can easily imagine his face on your body, but that other kid's like some wierd Derka version of me, I don't know if I can hurt 'myself' if you know what I mean."

"*sigh* Stan, I know you're a pussy and all, but for once in your life just fucking man up, alright?" Cartman instructed while gripping the collar of Stan's orange t-shirt. "These guys are the fucking enemy, and you need to step up and take action nyah, now go and kick that fucking douchebag's ass before I fucking kick yours!"

The fat boy released his strong grip almost causing his friend to topple over, but Stan regained his composure, looked over to his doppleganger with a shy grin, and calmly said: "Welcome to America dude, now get the hell out."

The two fights were as close as any battle between 'clones' could be, but while everyone involved got in good hits on their counterparts, each fight ended with a different nationality on the floor from exhaustion. Cartman had seemingly got the better of the fat Derkaderkastani kid, but Stan had taken one big hit more than his enemy and was left grounded with the leader of the al-Derka kid gang casting a shadow over him.

Still half-concious only a few seconds later, the blue-hatted boy hadn't even raised his head or opened his eyes when he felt a kick to the chest and a warm thick drop of liquid sharply hit his face, groaning before he heard Cartman's voice getting nearer: "Ay! That's fucking uncalled for, faggot! Get the hell out of here 'fore I kick your ass as well. What? Jesus Christ! THAT way, dick, Middle Park, 2 fucking miles, God! And take your douchebag friend with you!"

Around a minute after listening to the order, Stan tuned back in and heard a calmer tone from the fat kid: "Dude, Stan, you alright, this is like the second tahme I've had to wake you up today."

Stan slowly raised an arm to wipe the spit from his face and wearily rubbed his eyes open: "Ar... are they gone?"

"Yeah, those assholes are on their way to Middle Park now, _walking_, it'll be hours before they realise I tricked them. They left their guns behind as well, what a bunch of dumbasses."

The thinner 9-year-old watched as Cartman put the weapons into the sack that was lying in the parking lot, then returned to help his friend off the ground: "You okay man? That kid was a little more hardcore than I thought."

"You *cough* you're telling me. Look, I-I gave it my all, alright, but that kid was too tough in the end. Sorry I let you down dude."

"No way, Stan, you did good, and that was totally unfair how that kid was fighting. You were holding up really well till he kicked you in the balls, then it was all downhill from there. Obviously those sand monkeys have never learned how to play fair."

Stan groaned as he relived the memories, before patting his friend on the back: "At least you won your fight though. You've been in loads but I don't think I've ever seen you win one."

"Yeah, that kid had nothin' on me dawg. And I've won plenty of fights, ah kicked that Dr. Nelson's oompa loompa ass. And you totally weren't there, so that Jew-tard probably lied to you about it, but ah beat Kahl when we went to Los Angeles, but then he cheated afterward when that Bart Simpson kid snuck up on me with a Jew tag move, ah totally got double-crossed there, assholes. Anyway, I've won more than you, hippie, I've ever even seen you in an actual fight, unless you count that faggy little argument you had with Kahl once."

"Well if you're actually _nice_ to people then there's no need to get into them, I just do if I have to, y'know, like just now."

"Pfft, yeah, that's what they all say. You still need more practice Stan, but you didn't do too bad for a first try. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Mah house. We can lay low for a half hour and you can rest up, I need to get a little info on where we're heading after."

"Dude, why don't you just _tell_ me where that is right now? You pulled this KFC shit by surprise and look where it got me!"

"No can do Stan, need to _make sure_ I'm right first and then I'll _show_ you, seriously ah swear I'm onto something nyah."

"You'd better. And don't think I've forgotten my money you stole fatass. I _will_ get every penny of that $50 back before the end of the day, _got it_?"

"One problem at a time, you Jew, and you're not in a position to be making demands, who here _actually won_ their fight?"

"Screw you."

"Blah blah blah Stan, let's go."

The thin boy groaned as he lifted the slightly-heavier sack, before asking: "Dude, are we just gonna ignore the fact that there's a dead body lying over there?"

"_Yes_, Stan, remember what Jurgen said about those towelheads? Besides, this is a small town, people will find out there were terrorists here today even if they don't right now, and once the manager of this place finds out what went down and how we stopped a terrorist attack on the building, he'll call me a hero and offer me a lifetime supply of KFC..."

Stan glared at his friend as they walked away from the restaurant: "Don't... even... go there."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ There, if anything summed up Cartman's friendship with Stan... he would steal Stan's money to buy food, but then share some of it with him. Not sure how much he redeemed himself in that fight, but the 'brain food' will kick in soon._

_By the way, a mile and a 'dhari' are distances of equal stupidity to me, I stand for m's ;)._

_Voting for next chapter name here again, options are 'Second Lunch' and 'Just Proves You're a Fatass' (just so you know, I only count the votes from the poll on my profile page, so make yourself heard there next time). Enjoy._


	8. Just Proves You're A Fatass

_Monday 13th May 2013, 12:15_

The walk back to the Cartman residence was a painful one for both boys nursing their aches and pains, though Stan clearly seemed to have been affected a more so in a rare move of generosity Cartman offered to carry the sack, something which the thinner 9-year-old wasn't going to turn down in a hurry.

"Let's go round back, my mom usually locks the door when she's at work," Cartman instructed as they approached house #28201.

To the surprise of the pair, though, they walked through the living room to find Ms. Cartman in the kitchen, who was almost as stunned as they were. "Oh, hello Eric, Stanley, aren't you both supposed to be in school?"

"*sigh* It's fahne mom, the school got taken over by terrorists, didn't you hear?"

"Oh my! I had no idea, I've been in the basement painting all morning. Look at you poor things, what did they do to you? Is my poopsikins okay?"

Stan laughed as he usually did when he heard Cartman being called by that pet name, but quickly ached from his sore side and snapped back to seriousness: "This didn't happen 'cause of the terrorists... sorta. Fa-Car-Eric tried to escape and accidentally took me with him. We got out of the school and since then we've-"

"_She doesn't need to know everything, Stan_," The fat kid quietly hissed, before putting on a tough face: "We're fahne mom, I'm seriously, we just bumped into some weird kids at KFC and had to fight 'em off."

The woman looked closer at her son's face: "Ooh, you do have a few marks though hun," she then looked to Stan, who had both his arms over his stomach: "You don't look so good either, Stanley, stay here you two."

"Crap, this is why ah didn't want to come here earlier, thought she'd be at work or shopping or something," Cartman remarked.

"Dude, I know most of my mom and dad's work hours off by heart, you seriously don't know where she goes all day?"

"Dude, no-one does, alright!? I don't care what you say, I'm gonna try and get her out of here as soon as possible. She might be mah mom, but I can't take another goddamned adult trying to look after us right now. They just get in the fucking way!"

Stan didn't get a chance to reply as the older Cartman made her way back into the kitchen with a first-aid box: "I know poopsikins, those boo-boos can be irritating can't they? Don't worry, though, mommykins will make it all better."

"Bet meeeem..." the fat kid protested, but was swiftly sat down on a chair as Stan took up the seat next to him and waited as an examination of his friend took place: "Where does it hurt sweetie?"

"Ah'm fahne goddamnit!"

"Language Eric..."

"Fahne. That fat kid just hit mah face a little, that's all, seriously..."

Liane caressed the minor red marks: "Well I guess there's not much in this medical box that can help, we'll just wait it out sweetie, you'll be okay once I kissy-kissy it better," and after kissing, asked again: "That better hun?"

The boy lightened up a little as he got off the chair: "Ah guess so... thanks mom."

"Okay, now you Stanley," Stan walked around the table, and sat down as he received the routine question. "Where are you hurting?"

"Err... mainly just the face and chest a little, and that kid kicked me in the side really hard, but I'll be-"

"Oh dear, well take off your shirt so I can have a look."

"What!?" Stan seemed almost horrified at the request - he rarely walked around topless anywhere it wasn't normal, even in his own house. He looked over at Cartman, who instantly read his mind but wasn't too supporting: "Jesus Christ Stan, don't be such a gay little pussy, only girls hide their bodies dude."

"Shut up Cartman, I'd do it in my own house for my mom, but this is just awkward..."

Ms. Cartman tried reassuring the boy in her sweetly disturbing tone: "Don't worry Stanley, it'll be nothing I haven't seen before, every man I've ever met has had his shirt off in front of me at some point, including Eric and his sweet little lovehandles."

"Ay!"

Stan didn't know whether to laugh or shudder, but was convinced with the final comment - he couldn't be too embarrassed if he was being compared with Cartman, so removed his brown coat and orange t-shirt for a checkup. It revealed a large bruise on his left side and a few fist-shaped red shades on his chest to add to a few on Stan's face, but it was not the woman's primary concern.

"Stanley, you're wasting away, I had no idea, are you sure your mother is feeding you right?"

The boy got visibly irritated at the suggestion coming from her of all people, but retained some composure as he replied: "Yes, _this_ is pretty much average, well maybe not in this country, but I'm pretty sure my mom _isn't_ under-feeding me. Can we _please_ just hurry this up, I'm kinda uncomfortable still."

"Alright hun, but I need to make sure you're okay first," Liane noted as she set about checking the bruises, only seeing fit to clean the red areas and applied something that stung to the minor side bruise before giving him the all-clear.

As he threw his t-shirt on only slightly more relaxed than when he took it off, Stan had to admit to himself that Ms. Cartman was no Dr. Spooner, but she did know what she was doing as he'd expect from any half-decent mother when dealing with 'boo-boos'.

"Okay boys, rest easy now. Eric, I need to head out to my shift soon so you'll have to stay here and look after your little friend, would you like me to make you something before I go?"

Her son instantly put on his best sweet voice: "Well, I _could_ have a powdered donut pancake surprise if it's not too much trouble, It would sure help this pain we're going through."

"Sure thing sweetie, I'll bring it to you in a few minutes."

After Stan declined an invitation for food, the boys headed up to Cartman's room with their sack, with Stan resting on the fat boy's bed for a few minutes until a plate was brought upstairs: "Here you go poopsikins, I made it just like you like."

"Even the special sauce?"

"Yes, even the special sauce. Eat up, are you sure you don't want anything Stanley? You need feeding."

Stan looked up from the bed, trying to answer as politely as he could: "No thanks, I don't wanna get stuffed, plus I'm still hurting a little..."

"Say no more, but Eric, make sure you share that plate if your friend gets hungry. I need to go now, see you soon boys, and make sure you stay here."

"For now, mother, for now," Cartman quietly remarked once he was certain she was out of earshot, and the pair soon heard the front door close.

"Dude, I know you're fat, but how the hell can you eat all of that just after a day's worth of food? Really fatass, you had more in KFC than me, Kyle, and Kenny would have eaten combined and now you're having a plate full of fucking donuts and pancakes? This is why you're such a fatass dude, everyone always jokes about how you'll have a heart attack before you hit puberty but if you keep going like this you probably will, can't you just stop thinking about food for once?" Stan pressed with concern for his friend.

"You've got it all wrong Stan," Cartman replied mid-mouthful of chocolate pancake: "heart attacks are for old people, I'm not old."

"Jesus Christ, there is no getting through to you is there? Oh well, might as well have a bit of your precious dessert just to get back at you for earlier, hand some over, something sweet might make me feel a little better."

The fat boy surprisingly offered little resistance, but tore off the smallest slice that he could keep in his hand. The black-haired 9-year-old tried his sample of donut, but swallowed with disgust: "Ugh, what the hell was that, it sure wasn't chocolate sauce in there."

"I know, it's BBQ sawse, pretty cool huh? The special ingredient."

"_Such... a fucking... fatass..._" Stan muttered under his breath, before changing the topic: "What are you looking for right now then?"

Cartman spun in his desk chair defensively, blocking any view Stan tried to get of the screen: "Just... stuff. For mah plan."

"What plan?" came the irritated reply.

"I told you I'd tell you when we get there! Now do you fucking trust me or don't you?"

"I... really don't know anymore Cartman. I mean, today especially, you've been a help sometimes, but just a plain asshole for the rest of the day. We're in a fucking crisis right now and all you can think about is your goddamn gut! Twice! Just when you do something cool to make me remember why I haven't just turned around to call my mom or Jurgen, you completely screw me over or mess up our chances of saving everyone!"

"Well sor-ree Stan, I _do_ want to save everyone, 'cept maybe Kahl of course, but when we left school, I lost out on my lunch, you really think I'm gonna go the whole day without eating? I'd starve like a freakin' Etheropian! Don't lecture me on how that KFC wasn't delicious because it was 'morally wrong', I know you've midnight snacked on candy before when you weren't supposed to, how is this any different?"

"It's a hell of a lot different fatass, I'm not gonna say KFC didn't taste good, but I didn't stop thinking about everyone trapped in school still. That's why I haven't tried to kick your ass over my money yet, there are way more important things to worry about today. I know you're the best bet of helping everyone right now, that's why I stuck with you, but if you can't take this seriously then I'm leaving. I swear, if we miss out on saving everyone by an hour or something, just 'cause you _had_ to eat, then I'm never speaking to you again fatass."

Just as Stan angrily turned to face away from the fat boy, Cartman replied: "Fahne, be that way, fag! I mean, what, I only saved your life half hour ago from that al-Derka douche, but whatever. Listen to me dude, I have a plan now, alright?"

The standing boy raised an eyebrow: "That's all I wanted to hear Cartman, but are you sure this time?"

"Yes. The place I'm thinking of _will_ get us somewhere with this terrorist problem, I promise."

"We're not staying here like your mom asked are we?"

"No we are not Stan, more important things to accomplish than being good little boys isn't there. Come on, let's go."

"Where to?"

"For the last time dude, I'll show you when we get there." He said while filling a spare backpack: "But we need to make a stop off at your place first, after that you'll realise pretty quickly where we're heading..."

* * *

_**A/N: **Maybe this is the part where I leave it for a while for you to speculate on where they're going. Anyone who can guess correctly (not that I think anyone will) gets a mention in my note next chapter to celebrate their guessing skills. No chapter votes for this one (I've only thought of one name and I wouldn't want to give you any clues with it ;) )._


	9. Looking For Treasure

_Monday 13th May 2013, 12:40_

With their burlap sack still in tow, Cartman led Stan to the next location he had thought of, although Stan was certain of where that place was after the fat boy took him to the back door of his own house, instructing him to go inside and get his swimming shorts.

After a lot more arguing, the kid in the darker blue hat eventually went in and got a wet bag together, but was still very skeptical of Cartman's motives. As they approached the South Park Community Centre, Stan tried to make sense of his friend once more: "Dude, for the last time, why the hell are we going here?"

"Already told you hippie, I'll tell you once we're in there."

"This better be good fatass, I'm trusting you for the last time."

"It will be goddamnit now leave me alone!"

The boys entered the building and headed for the swimming pool section, as Cartman had headed up to the desk and displayed some of the assertiveness that Stan had been waiting to see since they left Professor Jurgen's house.

"Can we have two for swimming please ma'am?"

The woman at the desk looked a little surprised at the age of the customers: "Shouldn't you boys be in school right now?"

"No no, it's fahne, they sent us here on independent study. You're really gonna turn down paying customers?"

The receptionist raised an eyebrow: "No, of course not, we just don't get too many children in on weekdays without parents or a coach, I had to ask. Two children... that'll be $4.50."

Cartman dug into his pocket as Stan remembered where the money would be coming from, but his angry train of thought was interrupted by the woman's voice: "And that's 50 cents change. Pool's almost empty right now so you don't need wristbands or anything. Enjoy your stay."

The fat boy motioned for his friend to follow as they headed for the locker rooms, and once he was certain the woman was away from earshot, allowed Stan to speak: "_Now_ do you mind telling me why we've spent more of _my_ money to go to a fucking pool at a time like this?"

"I'll explain in a minute Stan, I can't risk anyone overhearing mah secret."

Stan was intrigued by the fact that Cartman was planning on revealing something secret to him - especially considering that he rarely opened up on anything to anyone - so kept quiet as they got dressed, something which was always a disturbing experience in the fat 9-year-old's presence.

Once finished, Cartman rushed Stan out of the changing area, telling him how it was important to get going and that he didn't need anything else such as goggles 'where we're heading'.

Once they had emerged in the main pool area, Stan was about to open his mouth again, before he felt his arm grabbed and the kid in the red floral shorts forcefully leading him to another room.

Taking note of his surroundings, the boy in blue shorts realised that this was the chance to speak up, shrugging off Cartman's grip and moaning: "Alright fatass, what are we doing in a disabled bathroom? You've taken me to this pool and we're not even getting in, what gives?"

"Okay Stan, jeez, I'm gonna tell you now anyway, hopefully it'll get that sand out of your vagina. Firstly, I told you, I didn't want anyone to hear, and what kind of place is more private than a disabled restroom? Timmy's family and Jimmy are the only cripples in town, and how often are they gonna come swimming? But that's not the reason why we're here. Remember that time we got trapped in the Cave of the Winds after you got a wierd boner for that Al Gore guy?"

"Dude, how the hell could I forget? If Kenny didn't dive down right after you and Kyle..."

"Yes, well, you know how I ate all that treasure that turned out to be fake?"

"I think we just covered that, asshole, but yeah..."

"Well the tour guys for the cave sent it all to my house a few days later, fined my mom $50, no biggie, but they said they couldn't keep something that had shit on it, so it was mine now. I kinda realised that it could come in useful some day, I mean it all _looked_ real enough, that's why I took the treasure in the first place."

Stan raised an eyebrow: "So..."

"So after one night in my room I got worried that someone might try and steal it if they saw a pile of treasure, especially Kahl, even if Jews can tell the difference between real and fake gold I wasn't going to take any chances. So I looked for a place to hide it."

The thinner boy tried to connect the dots and offered a confused answer: "A swimming pool?"

"Not quite. I did a little research, Stan, and found that there's an underground cave that runs right underneath these buildings."

"I've heard my dad say something about a 'Cave of the Downwinds' in South Park, but I don't really..."

"No dude, that's the one! I thought it would be a perfect place to keep the treasure, the Jew would never think to look in a cave after what happened."

"Dude, is this actually going anywhere? It sounds to me like a chance for you to go on about your beef with Kyle, if it is I know for a fact he wouldn't be interested in your 'treasure', especially some that went through your ass!"

"He's blinded you because you're his best friend Stan, he doesn't want you to discover the true extent of his Jewishness. But the reason we're here is because we can use this treasure _now_, like you said before, we can't just barge in on those Derkaderkastanis at school, even I'm not that good, but we can try to outsmart them. If we offer some of this treasure in exchange for them to leave, those dumbasses will be back through the portal before they realise they've been fooled. No-one can resist treasure, especially dirty towelheads, have you seen _Aladdin_ before Stan?"

His friend scratched at his black hair for a few seconds trying to pick a fault in the plan, but couldn't: "That's... actually a really good idea Cartman, I guess those CIA guys will be able to negotiate or something and get it to them... but that could totally work, plus no-one would get hurt, we can worry about protecting the portal after. I guess you got the treasure into the cave then, but how do we get down there? You said it's underground."

"Yes, so no _natural_ openings. Once I heard about the cave, I hired some Mexicans to sneak into this very room at nights and dig until they made this..." Cartman concluded, as he grabbed a metal handle in the corner of the room and slid it open to reveal a rocky tunnel sloping gently downwards: "You in dude?"

"Totally. It's not... dangerous, though is it?"

The fat kid borrowed Stan's trait of nosebridgepinching as he replied: "No, dude, it's not dangerous, alright? This tunnel's been standing ever since it was built, it's not gonna collapse on us, stop being a fucking pussy."

"I'm not being a pussy, I just wanted to make sure, you know? Even my dad can't get down here to explore, so sorry for being a little fucking worried about going in a dark cave that no-one else has been in before, especially after last time, who knows what's down there?"

The brown-haired boy placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, reassuring: "I do, Stan, trust me, it'll be fine. It should be bright enough to see down there, there's a few openings of natural light which make the place bright enough. What's the matter, scared of the dark?," he concluded menacingly.

Stan forced the chubby hand away from him: "Hell no! It's just that an unexplored cave, most people... forget it, let's just go in there."

"Fine," Cartman agreed as he stepped aside from the low crawlspace: "Ladies first."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ _Two of the boys entering a dark cave, alone, I don't even want to think what many people on this site would write next. Guess that sentence leaks part of what happens in the next chapter (Cartman isn't planning anything evil like closing the door after Stan walks in), and you can have another for free (Stan has a mini-depression (not like, faggy goth depression or anything, just a little upset)). Choices for its name are "Did You Wash It First?" or "Don't Tease Me Bro"._

_P.S. - The new picture will stay for this chapter and next, considering where they are it just fits for now._


	10. Don't Tease Me Bro

_Monday 13th May 2013, 12:50_

The black-haired boy mumbled something as he walked past and led the way, going under the low entry and walking through the tunnel, but after reaching the end and feeling something cold on his feet had to steady himself to avoid falling into a pool on a step down, as he called back from the tunnel's edge: "You didn't say anything about water dude!"

Cartman caught up, and replied: "Again dude, it's fahne, this won't be like last time, I swear. The water's pretty deep, you can't stand in it, but you can easily swim round to where I hid the treasure, and there's loads of flat rocky platform things you can rest up on inbetween. If you're that worried, just try and keep your head above water, then you won't have any problems."

Being almost forced into the freezing cold water first by his friend, Stan followed the advice and slowly started half-breaststroking across. Resting by leaning at each platform, he looked back to see Cartman making his way even slower with his familiar struggling, leaving the thinner boy to extend an arm to help his friend make it to the stopping points. After turning a corner, the pair reached a large shallow ledge at the end of the water that held the pile of fake gold and diamonds.

After climbing up himself, Stan lent a hand to assist his heavy guide onto the platform, before trying to hug himself warm while listening to Cartman speak: "Phew, made it. Man, we're gonna be totally ripped by the end of this, how's your bruise holding up Stan?"

The black-haired boy was clearly taken back by Cartman's rare show of concern: "Err... yeah, it's... getting better Cartman, thanks... for asking. So... how are we gonna do this then?"

"We'll take what we can hold, y'know, wearing some of the jewellery, carrying a few goblets, we're not gonna... hmmm... this place... it feels like... someone else has already been here."

"What do you mean?"

"Dunno man, something just feels... different. It's impossible, surely no-one else could have... it was Kahl, wasn't it?!"

"What?"

"Don't play games with me Stan, this is all a cover-up isn't it? That Jew-rat found out about my treasure, and he's come in here and stolen some, hoping ah wouldn't notice, well he's wrong, he's wrooong! And _you_, you obviously knew about it this whole time, you always say how you're like brothers with Kahl and this is one of those times he would have told you about what he did, I know what you two are like."

Instead of getting an angry response or even a 'chill out', Cartman only heard a sigh from Stan, who had turned to sit at the edge of the platform with his legs in the water. The fat boy walked over, casting a shadow above his friend: "Dude, what's wrong? Normally when I offend your butt buddy you're arguing back or telling me to shut up."

"*sigh* Cartman, Kyle didn't take any of your treasure. You're right, he would have told me if he did, but you're talking bullshit, you're an asshole for assuming that he would do that kind of thing, and it's all in your head, happy? Sorry, it's just there's something else on my mind... Professor Jurgen told me something earlier while you were having a crap, I'd forgotten about it till now."

"What? I told you we can't trust that goddamned Swiss hippie!"

"Stop, Cartman, it's nothing bad, alright? He just told me about his grandson Adler."

"Adler? That 3rd grader that visited a few months ago? He's related to JJ?"

"Yeah, him, where the hell do you think he stayed dude? Anyway, his godparents in France have agreed to be James' godparents as well, Jurgen said it'll kinda make them godbrothers, I guess they're saving the news 'till JJ's in France with them all later this week. He said it'll be an extra-proud week for the godmom, or something."

The brown-haired 9-year-old joined Stan in sitting down: "But... they're both your friends, aren't you supposed to like... be happy for them or some shit?"

"*hmph* You sound like the goth kids now dude. Yeah, I'm really happy for them, they're both only childs and they get along great, they'll be awesome brothers whenever they see eachother, it just made me realise... it seems like everyone has a brother except me."

"Dude, who cares?"

"At least you have one to not care about!" The smaller boy snapped. "Sorry, again, but even forgetting about James and Adler... I'm the only one in our group without a brother. I know Kenny has the only 'real' one, but even still... Kyle has Ike, and you have Scott Tenorman... even if you do hate him."

"Yeah, thank fuck ah don't have to live with that ginger asshole! You saw what he did with my hard-drive that one time. I mean, there's nothing better than being an only child, so having other dudes in the house... they'd just borrow your video games, your clothes, having to share all the good snacks, possibly even your room, just count yourself lucky you have Shelly rather than a brother dude."

The black-haired boy swung his legs in the water as he reflected: "It's not the same dude, I mean I wouldn't swap Shelly for anything even after all she does to me, but you're a guy too, you have to understand what I'm saying. Even Shelly would, I know that she'd have gotten along better with me if I was born a girl, it's just how this stuff works. Kyle's awesome, I really couldn't ask for a better friend and we really are as close as brothers, but I say that because it's true, he's the closest I've got, and we both know that we're not actually related, so it's just not the same."

"I know, it's better, right? I feel sorry for Ike having to share a house with Kahl all the time, it's nice to know you feel the same way."

"Cartman, it's not that, seriously, you're an asshole for thinking those things. I just want another guy in school with last name 'Marsh', y'know? I wanna have someone in my house that has the same interests as me and isn't annoying about it like my dad. A guy that I can teach new things and do stuff with that no-one else can, playing sports in the backyard, burping contests, playfights, share some of Shelly's beatings, *sigh*. Then sharing other things and experiences, like exploring places, getting into trouble, video games, snacks, secrets, basically what you said but the opposite, I _want_ to have all that 'cause I think I can be a cool brother to someone."

"Well... dude... I never knew you felt that way. I mean, if you need someone to get in trouble with, I think you're cool enough to be let in on some more of my pranks in school. Butters is too obvious a choice to take the heat for me all the time, so if I had a willing participant..."

"_That's_ what you take out of that speech? You really don't get it do you? I mean, me and Kyle get in trouble sometimes with our parents or something, it's kinda... I can't really explain, you either get it or you don't. *sigh* I guess the ship's sailed though, its not like I can just 'have' a brother now."

"Err... yeah, you can, just walk up to your mom and dad and order them to make with the dude juice, problem solved. Parents need to be aware that their kids are in charge, otherwise they just walk all over you."

"Ugh, that's a gross idea dude, besides, that Bart Simpson kid in Springfield told me he tried it once, but his mom told him it's a 50-50 chance of being a boy or girl, at least our house is even with two of each right now, and I wouldn't want another girl around. Plus there's the age difference, I'd only really be able to do most of the stuff I said with a boy who was 2 or 3 years older or younger, tops. I could be a really good protective older brother like Kyle is, but that's not quite what I want, again dude, you either get it or you don't."

"So... you still can get a brother the same age as you if that's what you really want, Ike's an adopted Jew... just find some orphan kid, bring him into your house, and make him your brother. It's not fucking difficult."

"Bart said he tried that out as well and a little brother found him, it turned out better and they got along well but he said his parents wouldn't allow it, and neither would mine. Besides, I think I'm just complaining for the sake of it, I mean I have a great home, parents, a sister, an awesome best friend, a dog..."

"... who's gay."

"Shut up fatass! Other great friends, even a total asshole who's just sat down and listened to all my whining, thanks man," Stan said as he nudged Cartman's arm. "...and a cool girlfriend... and I could end up losing half of all that if we don't get moving. Sorry for wasting our time dude, let's get what we came here for."

Cartman was the first to stand up: "Right, now you've wasted some of my time, we're even. And don't feel too bad dude, you're forgetting there's lots of kids in town without brothers: Clyde, Jimmy, Butters, but he doesn't count, Token, Timmy, Craig, Tweek..."

"Yeah, I get it dude..."

"Then guys we've met on those field trips, remember? Bart, that wierd Milhouse van Houten kid, Timmy Turner, Dipper Pines, Gene Belcher, just form a no-bros club with all them if you're that beat up about it."

"Riiight. Err... thanks for not being too much of an asshole about this Cartman, without getting all pussy on you... it means a lot dude."

"Hey, no problem, I still don't get it though, I mean I _my_ half-brother is dead to me anyway."

"I know, maybe someday you'll understand. But right now there's treasure to move, let's get to it."

Cartman started sifting through his pile to find some of the items he would least miss but looked convincing, but as he tried handing things over the black-haired boy backed off with a sudden realisation: "Dude... did you wash this stuff first? I don't wanna touch something you literally crapped on."

"Yes Stan, I cleaned it all at home before running it through this water," Cartman lied, before suggesting: "If you're that much of a neat freak fag, there's showers in the fucking locker rooms after, alright?"

Whether he was telling the truth or not, Stan just grabbed the treasure - figuring it wasn't worth the effort starting an argument over something like that right now, and once he was wearing a few necklaces, bracelets, and carrying two sculptures got in the water and began swimming back with Cartman following. The boys both made sure to be extra-careful on their return journey, and made it back to Cartman's tunnel without any problems (or at least in Cartman's case, no fatal problems), and the fat boy led the way back up before opening the door to the disabled bathroom.

"Oh my god, oh thank god we made it Stan," Cartman panted as he collapsed on the tiled floor: "Remind me to wear sandals next time or something."

"I hear ya, my feet are killing me from walking on all that rock," Stan agreed while rubbing his bare soles, "I'm sure glad that part's over with, but how are we gonna get this stuff to the locker rooms? What if the lifeguard sees us?"

"Dude, I didn't even see a lifeguard when I dragged you in here, but good point. We can't be both walking around with this bling in our hands, it'll look suspicious even if there's not many people here. Hmmm... I'll handle this part dude, you just make sure no-one notices me."

"What, like, distract people or something?"

"Duh, but you might not even need to, just pretend you're a kid in the pool for starters."

"Wow dude, I sure don't know if I'll be able to pull _that_ off."

"Dude, no-one likes a Sarcy Sam, alright Stan? Just go out there and I'll give you the signal when I leave this bathroom. Use any means necessary to make sure that no-one sees me, but even if they do... _they're not going to notice a thing_."

The black-haired boy turned around before he left: "Wait, you're not gonna try something stupid like eating it again are you Cartman?"

"No hippie, ah learned my lesson last time, and I'm not shoving it up my ass either if you were wondering, that shit takes too long, I have something better planned."

"Alright, well, whatever it is, good luck."

"You too Stan."

The thinner 9-year-old left Cartman to it, with no-one noticing his sudden appearance poolside. Stan took his time in walking over to the diving board as he took stock of his surroundings - just a lifeguard on his chair in a nearby corner and a couple of old ladies slowly swimming lengths at the other end. The boy jumped in, glad at least to wash off any hint of Cartman's crap that may or may not have found its way onto his body, and swum around the lifeguard's area while he waited for the fat kid to emerge.

After a few minutes, Stan leaned at the pool's edge as he saw Cartman's head in the distance popping out from a door, and while he returned the brown-haired kid's thumbs-up signal, Stan's hand quickly went into a nosebridgepinch as he saw the fat boy slowly waddle out of the bathroom.

A few seconds was enough for him to notice that Cartman's red shorts stretched out wider than his stomach (if that was even possible), with a clear uneven bulge around his waistline where the gold was being hoarded, and would be pretty obvious if anyone spotted him. Stan muttered something to himself and sighed before doing the only thing he could think of to provide enough of a distraction for his dumbass of a friend.

Shutting his eyes, the black-haired boy quickly took a half-mouthful of pool water to make his act more convincing, before dropping his head under and thrashing up and down at the surface. As expected, the lifeguard noticed and dived in to swiftly drag the boy out to safety and laid him on the tiled floor, with the hard pumps on his chest enough to make him spit the excess water out.

The 9-year-old made sure that coughing and deep breathing could be heard before mouth-to-mouth could be attempted, and kept his eyes shut for over a minute with slow breathing to let the onlooker (who had been joined by the two concerned elderly women) know that he was recovering by himself.

After sitting up and rubbing his eyes open, Stan looked across the pool area and saw no Cartman around, so just listened to the concerned man with a hand on his shoulder: "You okay now son, you could have drowned just then."

The boy had now got back to his normal breathing rate, but it was still a genuinely frightening experience for him, even if he had set it up on purpose: "*cough cough* Yeah, I guess so, I just swallowed a bit of water, and I have asthma, so..."

"It's okay kid, I understand. What about that bruise?"

"*cough* Un... unrelated."

"Fine. You need anything, or you just wanna sit here for a few?"

Before Stan could answer, he heard an unmistakable voice calling after him in the background: "Stan! Stan! Oh mah god!"

As Cartman approached, it was clear that he knew what really happened, as he rushed in to hug Stan for dramatic effect: "Holy crap dude, it's okay, you're safe now man,"

The old women cooed over the display of 'friendship', as Cartman continued to the lifeguard: "Don't worry sir, I'll take care of him now, make sure he gets home safe, he's with friends now, thanks for your help, god bless you sir, all of you, my friend is alive!"

The lifeguard shrugged and went back to his post, as the fat boy helped his friend up and walked alongside him towards the locker rooms. "I gotta give you credit dude, I wouldn't have thought you had the balls to do something like that, pretty good faking there Stan."

The thinner boy glared and hissed: "I didn't have a choice, and I was only half-faking dumbass, once I started it felt pretty real and fucking terrifying, especially after swallowing water. _Don't... ever_... make me do something like that ever again... _ever_."

"So _I'm_ a dumbass am I? I'm not the one who decided to drown myself _on purpose_ while knowing he has fucking asthma."

The black-haired boy grinned a little as they each stood under a shower: "Oh yeah? I wouldn't have had to if you didn't look so stupid. I'd never even think of stuffing treasure down my shorts, your idea was really _that_ retarded."

Cartman raised an eyebrow: "Really? Cause that 'retarded plan' just worked, the treasure is safe in that sack and ready to be traded to the Derkas."

"So long as I don't have to hold any of it, no-one would if they knew what that stuff has been touching."

"I don't care, those Derkas can suck mah balls... oh wait, they'll be doing something similar anyway if they drink out this cup. Ha-hahaha."

Stan grunted in agreement before leaving the shower area a minute later when an idea popped into his head. Hoping that the fatter 9-year-old wouldn't follow him for the short time he needed, he headed straight for the only hook on the wall that was being used aside from his own, rummaging through the pockets of the plus-sized clothes and collecting as much cash as he was owed.

With Cartman seeming to have $15 on him anyway before his earlier theft, Stan just took $40 in paper for the time being, but just as he thought he was in the clear, heard an angry voice behind him. "Ay! Da fuck you think you're doing, hippie? Your clothes are over there."

Stan hid the notes behind his back: "Err... nothing, fatass, I was just..."

"Don't even try to lie to me Stan, you know as well as I do you just won't win."

"Dude, it's nothing!" the blue-shorted boy attempted, but after getting a long and menacing staredown from his friend he thought it easier to confess: "Alright fine, I was getting back the money you stole earlier, happy?"

"No! I took that money from you first, and I've owned it for like, 2 hours now, so it's mah propertyah, not yours. What makes you think you deserve it?"

"'Cause it's mine dipshit! I actually saved up that money, unlike some people, _and_ I've had to put up with most of your bullshit today apart from the last half-hour when you've been pretty cool to me, until, oh yeah, I almost drowned just now covering your stupid ass!"

"I didn't ask for you to do that Stan, that drowning thing was _all you_. I admit it was an awesome idea, but you could have found another way to distract everyone. You're still just pissed off cause you had a little trouble breathing, that's all, you've had your fun, now hand back the money... or else."

The black-haired boy's eyes narrowed under his still-dripping black hair as he crossed his arms. He was not going to lose his money again. "Or else what?"

Cartman hadn't anticipated this, he usually had a plan for these situations, so thinking quickly he went over to Stan's belongings and looked through the wetbag: "Or else, or else... I'll take your underwear," he started while pulling something white out of the bag: "and I'll rub it in this wet floor nyah, see how you like to walk around like that all day."

"Dude don't do that, and I'm standing right next to your clothes, I can give as good as I get on this one. Seriously Cartman, just... just let me have this one, alright. There's only $40 here, 10 less than you owe me... so I'll just take the 40 and we can forget this all ever happened, the swimming and part of the KFC can be my treat. Oh, but you can pay for anything else we buy today unless its an emergency or something."

"Pfft, did that chlorine hit your brain and make you retarded or something Stan? You think after all that I'd just _let_ you have it?"

Stan thought about it for a few seconds, and decided to use a technique that his best friend came up with once: "_Yes_ Cartman, I do, because I'm your friend and hopefully you realise what you did earlier was a total dick move, especially at a time like this. To be honest, though, I can almost forget about the other shit you pulled today now, 'cause this treasure thing is an awesome idea, that's why I'm happy to pay for the swim tickets, 'cause I'm proud to have a friend that can come up with really smart ideas like this sometimes."

"Eh... uuu... ugh, fahne! Keep your stupid money, ah don't care," Cartman half-shouted as he threw the clothing towards its owner's face.

Stan decided not to brag about his small victory in case the fat kid changed his mind, simply grinning as he walked over to his bag to dry off and get dressed. That money couldn't buy him a brother, but at least it might help him create good memories with the next-best thing, just as long as Cartman's 'treasure plan' worked...

* * *

_**A/N:**_ _Correct me if you think I'm wrong, but that might have been the first chapter to have Cartman acting 'nice' almost the whole way through (or at least as nice as he can be, I did say almost)._

_Like I mentioned before, this was the second part of the previous chapter, I split it in two for length reasons. The idea came from The Simpsons episode 'O Brother, Where Bart Thou' (obvious from the references), I kinda see Stan and Bart as similar in some ways (not just the South Park joke in that episode) and this is probably something they'd both feel the same about._

_Like Stan pointed out, he's technically the only one in his group of friends without a brother. Again, the original characters were just a way to get this part going._

_Hopefully you understand the references (kinda obvious nods to the kids in other animated shows that suffer from brotherlessness), the 'why' comes from some of my other stories ('With Hate, The CIA' for the train thing, and 'Slippery Slope' for how Bart could have ended up talking to Stan at some point). This chapter must also be the most times Bob's Burgers has ever been referenced on FanFiction (twice), seriously amazed there are no stories for it on this site, although knowing the stuff that shows up on the South Park pages it would end up being some wierd Tina/Louise 'erotic friendfiction' thing or something..._

_Next chapter name votes are also online, with these ones giving the biggest-ever clue to what (or who) is coming next, just don't expect it any time soon (part of this story **had** to be posted today, if you've been paying attention). The choices for the title are 'Two Stans, No Decent Plans', or 'Secret Agent Smith'. I make this way too easy don't I..._


End file.
